


Sleepwalkers: Side A

by TheMayBellTree



Series: Sleepwalkers Universe [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fear of Death, Gun Violence, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranoia, Psychological Horror, Slow Burn, Survival Horror, Violence, Zombies, childhood friends turned enemies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-04-28 02:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14439975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMayBellTree/pseuds/TheMayBellTree
Summary: It came quietly in the form of a classmate. Blank faced, silent, and daunting as the classmate made sense of the new world around him, much like Shuichi on the other side of the glass. Then, Shuichi’s world shattered like the window pane as his first zombie crashed through. Anyone but Kokichi would’ve served great as his saving grace, but life’s ironic like that. Shuichi wanted anything except to be alone, so he’d suffer through this apocalypse with Kokichi if it saved him from loneliness.He egged it on. He knew he did, but he didn’t deserve to die over his teasing habits. How was Kokichi supposed to know that his classmate wasn’t kidding around? How was he supposed to know zombies couldn’t handle a joke? Kokichi fled out in front of the school and found Shuichi alone. Kokichi wanted anything except to die, so he’d suffer through this apocalypse with Shuichi if it meant someone covered his back.—Zombie Apocalypse AUSister Fic to Sleepwalkers: Side B by TheMayBellTree





	1. Phase 1: 5 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Baseball bat [beys-bawl bat]_  
>  **noun**  
>  a smooth wooden or metal club used in the sport of baseball to hit the ball after it is thrown by the pitcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s get zombified.
> 
> Welcome to our collab and to Side A. Enjoy your stay.
> 
> If you have not already checked out Side B by TheMayBellTree, I IMPLORE you to please please please read chapter 1 of Side B right after this. It might not seem like it at first, but the two stories heavily influence each other and you will miss out if you only read Side A or only read Side B! To see the whole picture, you need all the puzzle pieces :)
> 
> A few questions you might have:  
>  **Is there going to be more stories or is it just Side A and B?**  
>  It’s just Side A and B :)
> 
> **What’s the update schedule? How will this work with two fics?**  
>  Well. We’re going to alternate. So Side B updates next!
> 
> **How heavily will the fics effect each other?**  
>  Pretty heavily. Especially the farther we get into it.
> 
> **Will characters from each fic crossover?**  
>  Just you wait ;)

Shuichi clicked his pen for the twentieth time since eight this morning. When his mind went blank, he needed to move, do _something_ or else his anxiety would take control. He hated feeling this worried, especially over something so trivial. Shuichi couldn’t help it, he took everything too seriously, he poured too much of himself into everything he did. It’s a blessing and a curse.

Whoever decided that it’s okay for teachers to plan physics tests this early should be arrested.

Yeah, he’s freaking out over a test. No surprise there, he needed to do well. His grade—his future—depended on it. He sighed as he wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Shuichi clicked his pen again as he wrote another answer. After glancing up at the clock, his heart dropped to his stomach. Fuck, he only had five minutes to finish eight questions. Shuichi clicked multiple times as if that’d steady his rising pulse.

A finger drilled into his spine. Shuichi shot up with a gasp and flipped around to face the boy behind him. Intense, purple irises narrowed at him as he kept his fingers in a gun shape.

“Hey, Saihara, can you quit? Some of us are way behind, too, you know! How can I concentrate with all that racket?”

_Kokichi Ouma._ That name and voice filled him with agitation. His annoying next door neighbor. His once upon a time best friend. Now after years of constantly being around each other, all Shuichi wanted was to be rid of him, but fate wasn’t so kind.

Shuichi locked his memories into a safe in his mind before he reminded himself why he hated Kokichi to begin with.

Those purple eyes filled with tears, so Shuichi tried to hush him. “I-I’m s-sorry, please…” Shuichi’s mouth hung open after he stole a glance at the other’s test. “ _Kokichi_ —“ His voice reflected his annoyance. “—you’ve finished! What—“

“Oops, you got me!” Kokichi folded his hands behind his head. “Truth is, you’re fucking annoying. Or am I trying to distract you so you fail? Oh, wouldn’t that be a twist!”

“Ah, screw off.”

He didn’t have time for this nonsense. Shuichi groaned and faced forward before a teacher caught them again. It’s not the first time Kokichi’s bothered him during a test. Last time, Shuichi retorted to Kokichi after the smaller teen kept kicking his chair, and the teacher took up both of their tests to check if they were cheating. Luckily, the teacher let them go with a warning, but Shuichi wasn’t so sure he’d be so lucky if it happened again.

Shuichi gripped his pen tightly between his fingers as he tried to center his thoughts again. His mind felt clearer, his anxiousness gone like the wind. Maybe channeling his aggravation into Kokichi broke his downward spiral. He inhaled slowly before reading over the question again.

_a = Δv ÷ t_

It’s a damn formula, and he felt stupid for blanking on such a simple answer before. He stressed out too much, he’s doing fine—

A body slammed against the window to Shuichi’s left. He about fell out of his desk as he yelped, flinging his test paper onto the floor. Korekiyo, a boy in his grade, stared at him through the window.

“Holy shit, Saihara!” Kokichi slammed a fist onto his desk as he cackled. “That was amazing. Who knew the local shaman had it in him?”

Shuichi wanted to retort to Kokichi’s tease, argue that he wasn’t scared, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Korekiyo. His skin was pale, paler than Shuichi, rather gray and unnatural. His hair frizzed in random directions, possibly from the humidity outside. A chunk of skin was missing from his left tricep, and blood dripped from it like a sink that he forgot to turn off all the way.

“He’s bleeding!” Someone called from across the room.

Korekiyo’s head turned toward Shuichi’s classmate but didn’t move from his spot.

“H-Hey, Korekiyo?” Shuichi knocked on the glass to gain his attention. Only Korekiyo’s eyes turned, staring at Shuichi from the side. No light filled those eyes, Shuichi stared into a dull, clouded void. “Um—“

“Move it!” Kokichi leaned across Shuichi’s desk, forcing himself between the window and Shuichi. Shuichi rolled his eyes and huffed. Kokichi cupped his hands on the glass and leaned his lips against his hands to magnify his voice. “Hey buddy, this is school, not some sacrificial grounds. Whatever weird seance you’re doing, please don’t curse the school! Well, not while I’m here, anyways!”

How considerate.

“Sit down, Kokichi!” Their teacher commanded, and the small teen crossed his arms and pouted as he did as he was told. The teacher moved to the phone mounted on the wall and dialed a number. “Hello, we have an injured student walking around outside. Seventeen-year-old Korekiyo Shin—“

Shuichi tuned the teacher out as his hand raised to his chin. This was odd, even for Korekiyo. The guy was into strange stuff, but he’s never been one to walk around _injured_. And the way his eyes followed every sound... Shuichi placed a hand on the window, tapping his finger lightly in different spots on the window.

“What are you doing?” a classmate asked.

Korekiyo’s eyes followed Shuichi’s finger.

“I… Do you see how cloudy his irises are?” Shuichi tested his theory a few more times. “I don’t think—no, I’m pretty sure Korekiyo can’t see.”

Kokichi slammed his palm against his window. Korekiyo moved to the new panel of glass. Shuichi shut Kokichi a worried look, but the purple haired cretin only smirked.

“How interesting!” Kokichi smacked another part of the glass. Korekiyo’s eyebrows furrowed. “Voodoo boy brought a punishment upon himself! Life’s so ironic.”

“Kokichi, that’s not a good idea—“ Shuichi started.

Korekiyo lunged at the window. His forehead cracked against it, leaving behind a smear. Kokichi fell backwards out of his desk and scooted away when Korekiyo rammed into the glass again. Korekiyo bled from his forehead, blood rolled down around his eyes. Shuichi quickly tapped against his window to draw Korekiyo away from the window, but no dice. The injured teen kept drilling his body into the glass… until it cracked.

“Students, let’s calmly enter the hallway—“ the teacher tried to round them up.

The glass shattered. Korekiyo spilt over the desk in his desperate attempt to reach the smaller teen. Shuichi glanced toward Kokichi, but he already disappeared into the hallway long before their teacher instructed it.

Students screamed as Korekiyo pushed himself off the floor. Shuichi covered his mouth and held his breath. Korekiyo snatched the arm of one of the panicking students and _bit_ into her wrist. Shuichi muffled his whimper as he watched the student scream louder the harder Korekiyo latched on with his teeth. Students in the room all jumped into a panic, pushing each other down to leave the room. Korekiyo shoved the student down to trudge toward the fleeing students. Shuichi shut hit eyes as he heard Korekiyo attack another student.

Shuichi stayed that way until the room grew silent except for the pounding of his chest. This wasn’t real. Korekiyo didn’t attack anyone. He’d wake up to his teacher yelling at him for sleeping in class during a test. With his eyes squeezed until he saw gold spots, Shuichi pinched his cheek. He choked back another whimper, realizing how real this was. Tears threatened to show, and Shuichi felt conflicted on his next course of action. Screams echoed from the hall, and Shuichi decided crying alone in the classroom was the last thing anyone should do.

He peeked through the slits of his eyelids until he spotted the kid Korekiyo first latched onto. Her creamy skin dulled into a faded gray as she pushed herself to her knees. Blood sprayed from her wrist all over the floor, all over Shuichi’s shoes. Shuichi pulled his knees to his chest, causing the desk to creak. Her head snapped toward him, cocked to the side as she made sense of the noise she heard.

Shuichi bit his thumb as the only sure fire way he _wouldn’t_ panic. He was beginning to grasp the situation he found himself in. He’s seen enough movies and shows, read enough manga to know exactly what’s happening.

Despite their close proximity, Shuichi couldn’t see his reflection in her dead, cloudy eyes. One word repeated over and over in his brain like a mantra.

She took a step toward him. His breath hitched.

He needed to act or… he’d… he’d…

Shuichi dove into his backpack, chancing the loud sound of a zipper. He felt the metal object in his backpack and wrapped his fingers around it. She howled as she launched at Shuichi. He whipped out the folded razor scooter and swung it with all the strength he could muster at that angle. The scooter connected with her skull, staggering her backwards but not hitting hard enough to knock her over. Shuichi stumbled over Kokichi’s desk to crawl out the window. She caught his ankle, and his chin connected with the ground outside.

“Sh-Shit,” barely sounded out of his lips as he tried to reorient himself. The world spun around him, blurring like a paint brush smoothing together different colors and textures, and Shuichi’s mind whited out all coherent thought to focus on the sharp pain in his chin. He tried to push himself upright, but vertigo knocked him back down. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

Nails dug into his ankle hard enough to leave crescent marks. Thought began to return. If he didn’t move, she’d pull him right back in, and he’d turn into… into a…

“Fuck, Saihara, get up!”

A blurred figure scooped up the folded scooter, and Shuichi _heard_ the crunching of a skull behind him. His savior held no remorse, no guilt for their actions, but Shuichi was thankful all the same. If this really was an outbreak, then Shuichi shouldn’t feel guilty that it’s his fault a classmate was killed.

But he did.

His savior forced him into a standing position. Shuichi leaned his weight onto them—the person was so short—and let them lead him into the shack used to store sports equipment for outdoor activities. He was set on the ground, and Shuichi buried his face in his hands as he tried to recenter his vision.

“Shit, what the hell is going on?” Shuichi practically yelled. “Korekiyo—he bit—my classmate—she tried to kill me!”

“Shut the hell up,” the other hissed in a low voice. Male voice, Shuichi’s thoughts were clearing up. He heard the other searching through the shack. “Unless you want the zombies to surround us. If you have a death wish, keep yelling. Which by all means, feel free. Makes escape easier for me.”

Surely, that’s a lie. Right?

_Zombies._ He said it. It’s out in the air. It’s real now.

Shuichi rubbed his eyes, and his vision focused in time to catch Kokichi spinning a metal bat in his left hand. He tossed Shuichi the scooter.

“You ride a scooter to school?” Kokichi perked an eyebrow and smirked. “With the same scooter I gave you for your twelfth birthday? I’m flattered.”

“Shut up, we live too close for the bus, and it’s cheaper and easier to keep track of than a bike.” Shuichi’s voice carried more venom than he intended. “This way, a certain someone can’t steal my bike.”

“Oh, Saihara, are you accusing me of stealing bikes around campus? Perish the thought!”

“You’re not denying it.”

Kokichi handed Shuichi gauze. Shuichi’s mouth dropped open, so Kokichi pointed to answer his unasked question. Shuichi’s ankle bled from the claw marks, and he had no idea. The power of adrenaline? Shuichi frowned as he wrapped up his ankle.

“Guess scratches aren’t infectious.” Kokichi shrugged. “Too bad. Would’ve been nice to let out some tension, huh? Could’ve done you in or vice versa.”

“Can you _not_ say stuff like that? You hate me that much?” Shuichi fought the urge to throw up at either scenario. Once the wrap felt tight enough, he accepted the ACE bandage from Kokichi, securing it around the gauze. “That better be a lie.”

“Whatever you want to believe.” Kokichi waved his free hand. “I’m heading back into the fray. Stay or join me, it really doesn’t matter. I’m sure as hell not staying here to join Korekiyo.”

Kokichi wasn’t his first choice of partner, but Shuichi refused to be alone. He couldn’t finish off his classmate earlier, and he knew he’d freeze up again. Kokichi stepped up, doing what Shuichi didn’t have the balls to do. Shuichi stood to his feet, grip tightening around the folded scooter.

“Get us home, and then we go our separate ways,” offered Shuichi.

“Temporary partnership with an asshole?” Kokichi didn’t look back. “Keep up, watch my back, and you have a deal.”

In dramatic fashion, Kokichi flung the shed door open. Shrieks coming from inside the school greeted Shuichi's ears. Too many familiar voices shouting over the screams. Through the windows, Shuichi spied people he recognized chomping on the necks of other students. Bodies stood up, bleeding with each step, and searched for fresh, living beings. This was a madhouse.

“Dammit, Saihara. Move!”

Shuichi focused back in front of him in time to dodge a hand grasping for his hoodie. He ducked under the arm and smacked his scooter into the guy’s neck. It knocked the zombie to the ground, and Shuichi left him behind to catch up with Kokichi.

Zombies walked all around the front lawn. Students, teachers, janitors… All faces he labeled with names. It’s hard not to know most of the bodies in the school when he’s attended for years. He may not talk to everyone, but Shuichi knew their faces and names. All of them, dead. All of them scanned the lawn for the next victim. All of them contained lost souls.

And Kokichi whacked a janitor with a baseball bat with no hesitation. He aimed for the knees first, knocking the zombie down to the ground, and he swung down into his face to cave it in. Shuichi flinched at the sound and sight. And god, that smell. The air smelt like burnt flesh and iron.

The sound alerted two zombies near Kokichi. The small teen spun the bat around at one, hitting it with half the force he had with the janitor zombie. The other grabbed a chunk of Kokichi’s hair, and Kokichi tripped off his feet and dangled by his hair.

Shuichi jammed his scooter into the zombie’s wrist until she released Kokichi’s hair. He kicked her in the stomach, so she’d stumble back. Kokichi stood to his feet and swung the bat with a rather loud cry, hard enough to break her neck. Then he used the butt of the bat to nail the other between the eyes.

A few other zombies turned their attention to the duo. Sightless and lifeless, Shuichi still felt their attentive gaze as Kokichi led them closer to the gate.

“Isn’t this fun, Saihara? It’s like we’re living _The Walking Dead_!” Kokichi cackled as he tossed the bat over the gate and climbed. “You always loved creepy shit like zombies. Bet this is a dream come true!”

Shuichi tossed his scooter over the chain fence and hurried after Kokichi. “You can be a fan of something without wanting to be apart of it—you know what? Why am I even explaining this to you? You’re welcome for saving your life!”

Kokichi jumped off the ledge and landed with a huff. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Guess we’re even now.”

Shuichi landed on his ass. He unfolded his scooter and mounted it. “It’s about a three minute ride from here.”

Kokichi blinked. “I can’t fit on that.”

“No one said you had to.” Shuichi pushed off. “Just keep up.”

Shuichi sped away from the front of the school on his scooter. It was a small, silver scooter with navy blue wheels and handle bars. Really, he felt rather ridiculous scootering—was that a verb?—around during a zombie apocalypse, but hey, if it helped him escape, all the better.

He stole a glance over his shoulder to see Kokichi trailing not far behind with the baseball bat slung over his shoulder. Not far behind him, two zombies crawled over the brick wall in front of the school. Shuichi sped up.

“Um, don’t look back,” warned Shuichi.

“Too late for that.” Kokichi sprinted now, matching Shuichi’s speed on the scooter. “Do you have your house keys?”

Shuichi tapped his pockets to check. “Y-Yeah? Why?”

“Your house is closer.” Kokichi pointed with the butt of the bat as Shuichi’s house came into view. Benefit of living at the entrance of their neighborhood? Maybe.

Kokichi tripped one of their neighbors at the entrance. The zombie reached for Kokichi’s ankle, but Kokichi moved quicker by stepping on the zombie’s hand. Shuichi couldn’t watch as Kokichi swung the bat down onto his head. The crunch was all Shuichi needed to hear to know what happened.

Shuichi noticed the car in his driveway. His uncle was home at this hour? Shuichi turned the doorknob, and he sighed in relief that the door’s locked. If it was unlocked… Shuichi choked the terrible thought before it finished. He fumbled with the keys.

“Saihara, dude, I can’t do this all day.”

Shuichi wanted to tell him to just go to his own house, it’s literally next door, but Shuichi kept it to himself when he heard Kokichi smack another zombie. Kokichi really didn’t have to cover him like that, but here he stayed. Shuichi wondered if Kokichi feared isolation until they had a true grasp of the situation, until they had a moment to breathe.

Shuichi unlocked the door, abandoning his scooter outside. He called for Kokichi, and the purple haired teen joined him inside. Shuichi shoved the door shut and slid to the floor. Kokichi locked it before joining him, their shoulders touching as they slowed their breaths.

“What the fuck is going on?” Shuichi shut his eyes. “They—it’s—Kokichi—“

“Shut up. Just shut up for a minute.” Kokichi withdrew on himself, and he tossed the bat into the kitchen.

“You killed like five people!”

Kokichi deadpanned, “Those aren’t fucking people, Saihara.”

“Then what—“

“I already told you. Those are zombies.” Kokichi sat on his trembling hands. “Say it.”

“What—“

“ _Zombies._ ” Kokichi locked his intense stare onto Shuichi. “This will never be fun if you don’t admit the truth.”

“Fun?” Shuichi’s eyes widened. “This is fun for you?!”

Kokichi rolled his eyes and stood. He moved to the couch in the living room and turned on the TV to the news. “Might want to check the house. Make sure your uncle didn’t turn into…” Kokichi bared his teeth and pretended to bite his hand. “You know. I’d say zombie, but you seem to be allergic to reality.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, getting feisty.”

Shuichi ignored him as he headed upstairs. He knocked against the wall to draw out any zombie that might be around. When he heard no movement, he called out softly, “Hello?”

He slowly opened the door to his uncle’s room. Shuichi released the breath he was holding when he found the room empty. He check his own room next, but found it empty as well. A small part of him was thankful to be alone in the house. If his uncle wasn’t here, there’s a chance he’s fine.

“Holy shit!”

Shuichi about tripped down the stairs at Kokichi’s cry. Kokichi pointed at the news report about the inner city. Zombies ran rampart. Literally ran after people. Some walked, some ran, a few jumped. The cameraman was attacked moments later, and the camera fell to the ground to cover the footage alone. His screams echoed all around until he fell silent, hand falling in front of the lens. Shuichi watched in live time as his skin grayed and fingers twitched back to life.

Shuichi changed the channel.

“Hey!” Kokichi reached for the remote, but Shuichi held it too high. “Bully! I’m filing a bully complaint.”

“My uncle’s not here,” informed Shuichi. He waited for that news to sink in before continuing. “So I’m going to stay here until he comes back home.”

“His car is—“

“I know that,” cut off Shuichi. Kokichi shut his mouth. “I’m going to stay here until he’s back. You can go home and wait for your parents, too.”

Kokichi’s eyes darted to the floor. “They’re on a business trip.”

Oh… Oh.

“Oh. Um—“

“Staying here isn’t a good idea.” Kokichi raised an eyebrow. “I mean, it is if you wanna be zombie food. We live about twenty minutes from the city. That mob’s gonna head this way eventually. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be here when it hits.”

Shuichi shrugged. “Then leave. I’ll pick somewhere to go once my uncle’s home.”

Kokichi frowned. “You’re being suicidal. That mob could hit _tonight._ ”

“Leave,” Shuichi instructed again. “No one’s keeping you here.”

Kokichi held strong eye contact, staring at Shuichi expectantly. Shuichi narrowed his own eyes. There’s no way to know what Kokichi wanted from him or wanted him to say, so Shuichi groaned and rolled his eyes.

“You’re such an ass,” Kokichi finally said. “For top of our class, you’re a fucking moron.”

Shuichi’s hands flew in the air. “Then stay! I don’t know.”

“How genuine! What a generous offer.” Kokichi smirked. “I’ll stay the night, and if he’s not here by morning, I’m out.”

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

Shuichi sunk into a recliner on the opposite end of the room, as far from Kokichi as he could be. Zombie apocalypse, and he’s stuck with the biggest pain in the ass imaginable. Shuichi massaged the bridge of his nose. Not Kaede, not Kaito…

His heart hurt thinking about where those two might be. Were they alive? Were they dead? If they became a zombie, did someone… Shuichi shook his head.

Kokichi. Well, he’s better than waiting out the night alone in the house. As long as he stayed this quiet. Kokichi flipped through channels to watch different news reports on the outbreak. No one offered helpful intel yet, no one’s sure where it started yet. It’s spreading fast, and many stations requested everyone to stay inside.

At some point, Shuichi nodded off. When his eyes opened, day turned to night and the moon peeked between the shut blinds. Shut? Kokichi must’ve shut the blinds after Shuichi fell asleep.

“What time is it?” Shuichi wiped drool from the corner of his mouth with one hand and rubbed an eye with the other. When Kokichi didn’t answer, Shuichi sat up. “Kokichi…?”

Shuichi found himself utterly alone in the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to follow us on Twitter: @DillasWrites  
> @M_BTree
> 
> (Psssst make sure to read Side B next before chapter 2)


	2. Phase 1: 5 Months, 3 Weeks, 1 Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Machete [muh-shet-ee, -chet-ee]_  
>  **noun**  
>  a large heavy knife used especially in Latin-American countries in cutting sugarcane and clearing underbrush and as a weapon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the playlist that Kokichi pulls up later and puts on shuffle :) since I’m posting this list this AFTER I posted chapter 2, I’ll post again for chapter 3 in case a lot of you already missed it!  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/dillaswrites/playlist/13BUnrRAFXpZRt7TyruQM5?si=8SrlhxXrTsyBY8zn0YUtOQ
> 
> Also, over 500 hits on chapter 1?! WOW. Thank you so much for the support.
> 
> Let’s get started, shall we?

For a few seconds, Shuichi believed he dreamt it all.

Kokichi wasn’t his makeshift survival aide for the night. His uncle was in the house somewhere. He didn’t scooter—he’s still not convinced that’s a verb—his way to his house, away from people that wanted to bite chunks out of him. Kokichi definitely didn’t kill five people— _they’re not people anymore_ , Kokichi’s voice corrected—and he definitely didn’t use a baseball bat to do it, definitely not the one still propped against the stove in the kitchen.

If it wasn’t for the sharp sting on his ankle and the fresh blood seeping through the ACE bandage, Shuichi could have talked himself into believing his dream theory. He found the first aid kit in the kitchen and moved back to the living room to change the gauze and bandage, tossing the box onto his uncle’s reclining chair.

The claw marks in his ankle were deep and his sudden movement ripped any thin scab that may have formed. Damn, she must’ve had sharp nails to dig that far into his skin. As he wrapped himself up in fresh bandages, Shuichi shivered as he watched her lean toward his ankle to munch on, to turn him into one of them, how close to death he had been. If it wasn’t for Kokichi…

Shuichi’s nightmare crashed into his reality, both blurring together as he finished wrapping his ankle. The line was thin, but Shuichi still could determine the difference.

There wasn’t much of one. Eventually, it’d become impossible to tell.

Shuichi blinked back to the present. The bat’s in the kitchen. Kokichi left the house without his only weapon.

“Shit, Kokichi,” he said under his breath, careful to keep it at a whisper.

The zombies—his skin crawled—outside might hear him. Korekiyo responded to light taps on a window, so how sensitive was their hearing? Could they hear him whispering?

Shuichi stole a glance through the blinds. A few zombies strolled along in the distance, but not close enough to be a threat. So the horde hadn’t hit yet. A strange satisfaction filled his stomach, he wanted to brag to Kokichi that he’s wrong, but…

Kokichi wasn’t there. Kokichi abandoned him in the house. _Shouldn’t be surprised_ , Shuichi thought as he made his way to his room, _neither of us were exactly thrilled to be stuck together_.

They weren’t friends. If you asked him three years ago, Shuichi would’ve told you they were _best_ friends, but that’s done and over with and he refused to dwell on it, especially if it slowed him down. Now, Kokichi’s dissolved to his next door neighbor, and if Shuichi had his way, it’d remain that way.

A real friend wouldn’t have done what Kokichi did.

Glow-in-the-dark stars illuminated his bedroom in a dull, faded green hue. For Christmas when they were fourteen, Kaito bought the stars to keep him company into the night because Shuichi hated the loneliness the dark provided. At night Shuichi felt trapped in his mind, falling into an endless abyss until… uh, best not to remember that time in his life. He, Kaito, and Kaede took turns jumping on Shuichi’s bed to stick the stars to random places on the ceiling. He smiled fondly at the memory until he remembered.

He had no idea where either of them were. Did they make it out of the school? Shuichi retraced his memories, scanning the background for their faces. No, Shuichi ran across the front of the school with Kokichi right at the start of the outbreak, and he didn’t see either, alive or as a zombie. If they escaped, they took a different route or they left way after Shuichi and Kokichi. He hoped they found somewhere safe to stay the night, if they survived.

Ah, _if_.

Shuichi frowned at the stars. The glow didn’t provide comfort anymore.

Shuichi tossed his house keys, which included his spare car key, onto the bed next to him. In this space, he felt alone. Though Kokichi annoyed the hell out of him, the thought of never seeing a living person again almost crushed his will.

Maybe Kokichi was better than no one.

A weak, warm breeze blew across the nape of his neck. His window was cracked open just enough for someone small to slip out onto the roof and… of course. Shuichi felt tempted to shut the window and lock it, but he froze when he caught shadows moving in the house next door.

Kokichi had jumped from Shuichi’s roof and onto his own, slipping into his house from his bedroom window. When they were younger, they’d sneak into each other’s rooms with ease this way. Guilt poked at Shuichi’s heart as he realized that Kokichi must still leave his window unlocked, and Shuichi has kept his on lockdown for years.

Kokichi had found another backpack—both boys abandoned theirs at school—and, in the biggest pocket, stuffed it with canned food. The second pocket he filled with spare cloths: jeans, shirts, blankets. If Shuichi’s eyes weren’t playing tricks, Kokichi placed a few knives and daggers from his dad’s stash of weapons in with the clothes.

He changed into a black hoodie from his closet, a hoodie with cartoonish skeleton bones that Shuichi had seen Kokichi wear around Halloween. The hoodie fit rather large, the sleeves hung over his hands and the bottom reached beyond his ass. Surely he was sweating, Shuichi was in his own hoodie, which was significantly thinner than Kokichi’s. Though it was well into the night, the breeze was still slightly humid, and yet Kokichi wanted to dress for winter.

Shuichi rubbed his arm, feeling his own hoodie. He wore it because the school blasted the AC once the calendar rolled over to April, and Shuichi froze at school. With how humid the air grew after the rain, both boys could suffer a heat stroke, especially Kokichi. They’re only thrusting pain upon themselves.

_But for Shuichi, it provided comfort, a sense of home now._

The shorter boy tied his hair up into a high, tiny, and tight bun. A few loose strands framed his face, but Kokichi managed to tie the majority up and out of his face. When Shuichi blinked, he caught a flash of a zombie yanking Kokichi down by his hair back at the school.

Oh. Smart.

Kokichi’s eyes swept over his own room once more before he slung his backpack on his shoulder and exited.

_Kokichi really planned to leave._

“Kokichi!” Shuichi called after him, as if he’d hear him through the door, all concern about volume thrown out the window.

“Miss me already?”

Shuichi almost squealed at the intruding question. Yeah, almost. Definitely an almost. Where the hell did that come from? He scanned his room for something, anything that Kokichi could speak through, searching his desk, glancing into his closet.

Kokichi’s signature snicker filled the silent void of his room. “Betcha jumped! Saihara was always a coward.”

Under the bed. Shuichi dropped to his knees and reached for the walkie talkie, yanking it off the charger. It’s been so long since he, Kokichi, or Kaito used their long range walkies that Shuichi completely forgot where he put his. He didn’t know he still had it, or that he left it _on_.

_Did he leave it on or did Kokichi turn it on?_

“I saw you staring at me like a peeping tom.” Kokichi snickered again. “Sorry, Saihara, no peep show tonight.”

Shuichi pressed the button to speak despite his better judgment.

“Fuck off,” Shuichi whispered low into the walkie.

“Kaito’s rubbing off on you with that language!”

“Where are you going? It’s the middle of the night.” Shuichi moved back in front of his window in case Kokichi entered his room again.

“Ah, that’s the best time to move. People move during the day. At night, we only have to worry about zombies.”

That was ominous, but surely Kokichi’s lying about his faith in humanity. So he focused on the statement that might be true.

“We?” Shuichi repeated. He chewed his bottom lip before adding, “you and I are a ‘we’ now?”

“Don’t look too much into it.” Shuichi could hear Kokichi shuffling more things into his backpack. “It’s not like I’m asking you to be my BF forever and ever and ever and ever—“

“ _Stop._ ”

“Did I hit a nerve? Trust me, last thing I want is to be forced into Kaede status for you. That’ll be awkward for everyone.”

Shuichi tensed up, he wanted to defend his choice to remain her friend after she cut off their relationship. How dare he compare what happened between them to what happened between him and Kaede. It’s not like Kokichi wanted to understand, anyways.

Kokichi continued, “we can’t make it out of the city alone, you know that. How many times did we cover each other’s asses to get here?”

Shuichi stayed silent.

“I did some thinkin’. If this was a video game, I’d leave you here.” Shuichi didn’t doubt that. It was the most honest Kokichi had been since the conversation started. “Solo running is fun and all, but not when I only have one life to spend.”

“So like it or not, we need each other,” Shuichi finished for him.

“You said it! Not me!”

If only Kokichi saw his eye roll, then he’d really understand how over Shuichi was with this conversation. As much as he hated it, Kokichi… wasn’t wrong. Shuichi hesitated, his resolve slipping through his fingers like sand.

Shuichi pressed the button barely enough to feel it click under his finger. God, he hated how weak and small he sounded, but he heard himself ask, “what if my uncle comes back? You don’t want to look for _her_?”

Kokichi was silent for too long on the other end. Just as Shuichi thought Kokichi gave up on him or was going to make fun of him, Kokichi appeared at his window, one hand clutched at his chest. He held the walkie to his mouth but decided to lower it to his hip. Even with the windows barely cracked, despite the gentleness of his tone, Shuichi heard Kokichi clear as day.

“We go or we die. Would he want you to wait?”

Shuichi lowered his walkie as well, narrowing his eyes. Kokichi’s sudden gentleness didn’t fool him.

“You keep talking about leaving me behind. Why don’t you just do it?” Shuichi allowed his annoyance to seep through.

There was a flash of emotion Shuichi couldn’t identify, but it was gone within a second, morphed into something else before Shuichi pieced it together. Kokichi’s gaze darkened with a smirk, his tone of voice changed into a sinister sound. “You don’t think I will? Saihara, we’re a team until I find someone else. I’ll dump you the first chance I get.”

There’s Kokichi.

“It’s mutual,” agreed Shuichi. He released a drawn out sigh. “I just—”

“Stop thinking about others and worry about those you can see.” Kokichi held strong eye contact. Shuichi wanted to cower into the shadows, but that’s what Kokichi wanted. He wanted to break him into submission. “If you can’t physically see them, assume they’re dead. I’ve already made peace with that. Your turn. Your uncle, Kaito, even precious _Kaede_ —“

“Shut up.” Shuichi’s knuckles turned white from his grip on the walkie. “I’m coming, but I’m not giving up on the others.”

Kokichi smirked, but it was softer than before, as if Shuichi said exactly what he wanted to hear. No, Kokichi didn’t care. Maybe he cared for Shuichi’s uncle because his uncle always welcomed him as a second son—maybe he wouldn’t if he knew what happened—but Kaede and Kaito? No way. Kaede and Kaito were almost equals to Shuichi in Kokichi’s eyes. He couldn’t care less if they were dead or alive.

 _Dead._ Shuichi shook his head. No, no, no. They’re fine. Maybe they grouped up with someone that could really help them. Shuichi frowned at the thought of his friends forced into killing people— _zombies_ , Kokichi’s voice corrected once more.

“Pack a backpack. I’ll finish up over here, and we’ll meet up here again.”

Shuichi waved him off. He searched his closet until he found a backpack he used in elementary school. It was brightly colored, plastic, cheap, and… jeez, Naruto’s printed on it in a stupid stance. Heat rose to his cheeks, but he pushed his embarrassment down because it’s a zombie apocalypse. No one cared anymore about social status.

He’d love to say he knew exactly what to pack. To put it simply: Shuichi didn’t know what the hell he was doing. He knew the basics. Zombies die after a strike to the head. Don’t get bit. Find a safe space. Some weapons are more ideal than others. However, all the manga he read and movies he watched did little to prepare him for this.

Did anyone actually prepare for a zombie apocalypse? Huh. Probably.

Shuichi grabbed whatever came to mind that seemed necessary. A blanket his grandmother sewed as a going away present when he moved in with his uncle. Lighter and cooler clothing for travel. Warmer clothing in case he needed it in the winter—god, he hoped a cure or whatever was found before then. A flashlight he found in a drawer in his desk. A couple of pocket sized notebooks. His backpack couldn’t zip close, so Shuichi abandoned a few outfits for more room.

He rushed to the kitchen. Shuichi cursed himself for letting his uncle shop alone a few days prior, the man never knew what to buy for Shuichi when he wasn’t physically there to tell him. The pantry was full of canned macaroni and cheese, ravioli, and peas. Shaking his head, Shuichi filled his backpack with as many cans as he could fit. He searched all the drawers until he found a lighter, which he stuffed in a side pocket. He tossed any knife he found—steak, butter, plastic, didn’t matter because in the moment all knives were equal—into the pocket with his clothes. And Shuichi found some twisty thing with a screw on it, so he added that in with the knives. There was an item normally found in the kitchen that he couldn’t quite place—maybe he used it earlier—so he moved on.

His backpack weighed like a cinder block on his back, but he reminded himself that all of it was necessary to their survival. Shuichi snatched Kokichi’s bat, careful to avoid the bloodstains, and headed back upstairs.

Well, that’s what he would’ve done if a person wasn’t screaming bloody murder outside.

Shuichi flung the front door open and expected to see a neighbor running from a zombie or two, and he expected to fight off a zombie without having to kill to, allowing the neighbor to run away. He _didn’t_ expect a zombie to immediately bump into him. He _didn’t_ expect to trip over a body—a zombie Kokichi killed earlier—in the yard as he stumbled away from the cold, reaching fingers. And most of all, he _didn’t_ expect the screaming to be from a smaller zombie across the street. A zombie that looked too similar to be the six-year-old homeschooled girl with two blonde pigtails that lived two streets over, a zombie that had way too long of nails that began to curl on the edges.

The horde had hit silently, zombies dotting his front lawn like confetti. It definitely was not a party when one zombie grabbed his calf, and another reached for his face. Up close, Shuichi earned his first true glance at what he’s up against. He recognized the one hovering over his face as his uncle’s friend from down the street, but though she wore the same face, this zombie was _not_ the woman Shuichi grew up eating dinner with on occasion. Like Korekiyo, her eyes were clouded, fish-like in the way those irises stared at him with a too intense focus. Her gray skin sagged around her face, as if her skin grew too heavy for her bones. When she bared her teeth, which already corroded to a bright yellow, blood dripped down her chin, droplets landing on his forehead. She chewed on whatever chunk of flesh she had, yet she stretched for more.

She would not stop until she bit off a piece of Shuichi. All became clear.

Shuichi kept his eyes on the two zombies as he blindly reached for the baseball bat he dropped. Only finding purchase on wet, blood stained grass, Shuichi resorted to kicking the zombie by his foot in the neck. Shit, his ankle _hurt_ , but he refused to give up. He rolled away from his neighbor and he sat up to evaluate the condition of his yard.

From a quick scan, he counted about nine zombies on his front lawn alone, not counting those in the street, across the street, or in areas of his property he could not see at a glance. He’s fucked, he’s royally fucked. Kokichi was right, they should’ve left, he should’ve listened—

“Hey, _I Am Legend_ rejects! Wouldn’t you rather have a piece of this cuteness instead of emo boy?”

From his roof, Kokichi banged a wooden spoon against a metal pot. The clang, clang, clang carried over all the grunts and noises the zombies made. Shuichi watched as all heads turned at a snail’s pace toward Kokichi. It was almost humorous how choreographed it looked, but Kokichi placed himself in the eye of the storm. The horde surrounded his house within seconds, hundreds quickly became a thousand, and Kokichi didn’t relent. He kept slapping the spoon against the pot like it’s his lifeline, not Shuichi’s.

“Saihara, get in the SUV!” Shuichi barely heard over all the commotion.

SUV— _Oh_. His uncle’s car. The path wasn’t clear, but Kokichi made it easier. Shuichi scooped up his scooter, which was closer than the bat, and swung at the first zombie in his path. Maybe zombies weren’t innocent people, but he still felt guilt poking at his heart at the thought of killing one. So he’d just have to force the zombies back. He aimed lower than the head, the head’s off limits. Shuichi’s scooter cracked against the male zombie’s shoulder, and Shuichi watched the shoulder pop out of place with a sick _pop!_

Shuichi spun around and nailed the stomach of another zombie. That zombie let out a gasp, barely audible above all the clanging around them. And that’s all it took for a few heads to turn Shuichi’s way.

“Hey, hey! Over here, fucktards!” Kokichi stood closer to the edge and banged harder, but the horde continued to turn heads toward the new sound. His voice cracked, “ _S-Saihara_ , behind—“

The space between the handlebars connected with the forehead of a runner. Not hard enough to break skull, but hard enough for crimson to wash over his last name etched in permanent black sharpie. “ara” was all that remained.

The wood spoon whistled by Shuichi’s ear. It clunked between the eyes of a nearby zombie, bouncing off comically. The zombie lost interest in Shuichi as it made sense of what could’ve possibly hit it. Dumb and blind.

Kokichi smirked from the roof. He’s a relief pitcher on the baseball team for a reason, Shuichi supposed.

Shuichi opened the car door slammed it shut behind him. He threw his scooter in the back, and he rubbed the blood off his hands onto his jeans. His heart threatened to burst through his chest as he caught his breath. Zombies pushed against the driver’s side door, almost unsure if that’s where the noise came from. Shuichi covered his mouth in case they could _hear_ his fear. Tears formed in his eyes. He left the most vital item to his escape inside the house, in his bedroom.

Kokichi chucked the pot onto Shuichi’s roof, which clattered across the roof tiles until it crashed onto the porch. Zombies followed the sound, but a few remained by Shuichi’s driver side door. One placed a bloodied hand against the window, leaving behind an all too detailed print.

A body thudded against the hood of the SUV, definitely leaving a dent behind. Shuichi watched as Kokichi hopped onto the back of a zombie, stabbing a long, large knife into the back of his head. Blood splattered across the right side of the windshield and a bit on the right mirror. Kokichi rode the zombie’s back until it collapsed. He tugged the knife out of the corpse’s head, and he stabbed another in the chest, blood staining the passenger window in a crimson wave. His foot kicked the zombie off the knife.

One snuck up behind Kokichi, and she bit into his tricep, yanking him around by his hoodie sleeve. Kokichi grunted and crunched the zombie’s nose beneath the hilt of his knife. Through the metal door, Shuichi watched and heard Kokichi turn the zombie’s nose into a pancake. Blood sprayed from her nose, staining the white bones of Kokichi’s hoodie, blood trailing from his neck down inside the jacket. He repeated this action until she released him.

Kokichi slipped into the passenger side before more hands snatched him. Both sides of the SUV were surrounded.

Shuichi pulled the first knife from his backpack he could grab.

“The fuck are you doing?” Kokichi stared at his hands before ripping his eyes away to settle on Shuichi. “I know I look like I just walked off the set of _Carrie_ , but can we move this along?” Then his eyes rolled down to the knife in Shuichi’s hand. “A butter knife?”

“You’re b-bit!”

Kokichi smirked and rolled his sleeve up until he showed up his pasty, thin arm. Shuichi blinked and blinked until it hit him like a train. The thick hoodie wasn’t meant to keep him warm. A zombie needed sharper teeth to bite through the thick cloth and break skin.

“Now that we’ve made it clear that I’m not dead, can you start the car? So that way I stay, you know. Not dead.”

Shuichi whimpered and shook his head. Fear slipped into Kokichi’s stare and melted away within a second. He climbed into the driver’s seat, into Shuichi’s lap, and went to work. Shuichi tried to stare at anything except Kokichi. He tried to ignore the blood seeping from Kokichi’s hoodie into his own. At close proximity, the scent of iron and meat invaded his nose, and Shuichi couldn’t contain the uprising gag in his throat.

The zombie by Shuichi’s window banged a fist against the glass, smearing the bloody handprint away. Shuichi gasped as he banged again and again and again and Shuichi couldn’t get the image of Korekiyo out of his vision. It was only a matter of time before he broke through like Korekiyo had done, it was only a matter of time before everything shattered.

“K-Kokichi—I—we’re—“

“Shut up, and let me fix this.”

Kokichi ripped wires out from places Shuichi didn’t know was possible, and he connected wires, and Shuichi had no idea what Kokichi was even doing…

 _Crack!_ His window spiderwebbed in all directions. One more hit, and they’re done.

Shuichi buried his face in Kokichi’s back as he waited for the end. He wrapped his arms around Kokichi’s waist and squeezed since words wouldn’t speak, a sad attempt at an apology for fucking up. All the sorry’s that his voice couldn’t say. If Shuichi remembered to grab his keys. If Shuichi would’ve listened about the horde. If Shuichi stopped being selfish and focused on the one person alive in front of him. If Shuichi—

And the car started.

“Ha, we’re not dying today, shitheads!” Kokichi honked the car horn. “SaiOuma is not on the menu.”

Combining their last names. How original.

“Don’t instigate them, we’re not out of here yet.”

Shuichi tossed his bag and scooter in the back before forcing the car into reverse. His mind completely blanked out except for one word: _go!_

“This… might get rough,” warned Shuichi.

“Kinky.” Kokichi winked.

Shuichi rolled his eyes as he pressed the gas pedal against the floor. The SUV flew back, running over a few zombies before hitting the street. The back crashed into the neighbor’s mailbox across the street, jostling the two boys around.

“How ironic would it be if we survived all that, but we die because you’re a shit driver?” Kokichi grinned, clutching Shuichi’s arms. “I don’t even have a license, and I drive better than Saihara!”

“I retract my apology!” Shuichi shifted to drive. Heat rose to Shuichi’s cheeks. “Will you get out of my lap?!”

Kokichi tossed his backpack into the back seat then moved back to the passenger seat. “You _hugged_ me,” singsonged Kokichi with a smirk. He poked Shuichi’s arm.

“Because I thought we were dead—fuck it. Definitely retracted. You’re insufferable.”

Shuichi hit the gas before the horde surrounded the car. If they got caught in that mess they’d never make it out alive. Especially with the window almost smashed in on Shuichi’s side. He ran a finger across the cracked glass, feeling how easy it would be to push and watch the glass fall, how close they had been to death.

Kokichi’s snicker brought Shuichi’s mind back as the other boy plugged his phone into the USB cord attached to the radio. Shuichi’s lips tugged up into a small smile as he watched Kokichi smirk and scroll through playlists on his phone.

Yeah, they almost died, but they’re very much alive and kicking. Kokichi’s covered in blood and guts but none of it belonged to him. Shuichi’s ankle’s swollen and probably bleeding again but he made it out of the brawl with no severe damage. Despite the danger, together they survived. Maybe, just maybe, they actually made a good team—

Kokichi turned up the radio to an ear piercing decibel as “Wannabe” by Spice Girls blasted through the speakers. The SUV rattled from the sheer volume and Shuichi narrowed his eyes. Okay, maybe not a good team, but they’re well enough to survive for now.

“Seriously?” Shuichi turned the knob down. “Do you _want_ that horde to follow us?”

Kokichi rolled his eyes and tucked loose, bloodied strands of hair behind his ear before he crossed his arms across his chest. “They’re not following us, buzzkill. Look, they have a new friend to play with.”

Shuichi checked his rear view mirror and watched in horror as the horde surrounded a family that Shuichi recognized from a few streets over. He wanted to peel his eyes away but he couldn’t, he felt frozen. Shuichi wanted to help, but… there had to be around a thousand of those suckers, and it’s a miracle as it was that he and Kokichi made it out. Karma wouldn’t be so kind twice.

“I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah!”

Kokichi poked Shuichi’s ribs again, drawing his attention back to the road. Shuichi wiped the tears from his eyes before Kokichi caught them and he focused in on the smaller boy’s obnoxious singing.

Shuichi recognized this playlist as it changed to “Open Arms” by Journey. This was a playlist Kokichi, Kaito, and Shuichi made together as their guilty pleasure music to listen to during their hangouts. Songs they’d never admit to anyone else that they love. Kaito’s selections were all girl bands/artists and country music. Kokichi’s was all rap and hip hop songs. And Shuichi’s… Shuichi’s were love ballads/tear jerkers and original songs written for popular games that YouTubers often play through. And, of course, random songs here and there that didn’t fit their usual genres mixed in amongst the others. Just songs they enjoy in private and in their trio.

“Where are we going?” Shuichi turned onto a road.

“England.”

“Kokichi.”

“Fine, fine. We should totally go to Kayayday’s house. We could totally pick up your girlfriend.” Kokichi widened his eyes and blinked those lashes at him innocently. “Oh… what if she’s one of those gross zombies with the long nails? She’d never be able to play piano again! How tragic.” His eyes watered. “The world lost such a talented person so young! This is a travesty.”

Shuichi opened his mouth then shut it. Kokichi wanted a retort. So he swallowed his words in favor of denying Kokichi the right to laugh at his expense.

“She's not my girlfriend.” _Anymore._ “That horde is only the beginning. Near a city is the worst place we could be I think, and the horde will only grow. We need to leave and escape the city as fast as possible.”

“If Saihara says so, I _guess_ I’ll believe him. He’s had such great plans so far.”

Shuichi changed directions suddenly and sharp enough to jostle Kokichi in his seat. Kokichi continued to sing along to the song as if nothing happened, but he occasionally gave Shuichi the side eye.

Shuichi pulled out his own phone. Five missed calls from his uncle, all came through while Shuichi slept. Last call reached him two hours ago. At least two hours ago, his uncle was for sure alive.

Shuichi listened to the three voicemails left behind as he kept his eyes glued forward.

_Shuichi? Shuichi, pick up, pick up, pick up. Shit, my coworker drove us by the school, but you weren’t there. I… didn’t see you as one of them, so… Wherever you are, stay safe. Call me, please._

Shuichi felt a lump form in his throat. So, he pieced together that his uncle carpooled today, and he was at least with a coworker in this mess. His uncle’s not alone.

 _Fuck, Shuichi, pick up! I tried to get back home, but the horde is blocking our path. If you’re home, get the hell out of there. I have a gun under my—_ his voice cut out as someone screamed. _Dammit, we have to move! Get back to the car!_

The voicemail ended there. Shuichi squeezed the steering wheel with a death grip, but he released tension. There’s one more voicemail. The one left two hours ago.

 _I finally got through again!_ His uncle sounded significantly calmer than in the first two voicemails. _I don’t know if you’ve been trying to call me, but everyone’s clogging up the service so… In case this is the last time I’m able to get through or if my phone dies, I want to say this._ His uncle sighed. _We’re heading north. Supposedly the army is trying to form a safe zone somewhere. All I know is we’re driving north, and we’re looking for signs to lead us the right way. Shuichi, if you’re still alive and you hear this, go north. One more time, and say it with me so you don’t forget._

“Go north,” Shuichi said with his uncle under his breath, too low for Kokichi to hear over the music.

_Ha, good boy, Shuichi. I love you, and we’ll see each other soon._

“I love you, too,” mumbled Shuichi, wiping again at his eyes with his shoulders this time.

Shuichi dialed up his uncle’s number only to be greeted with static. He tried six more times, but the results remained the same. Then he tried Kaede. Same thing, but this time his heart fell to his stomach. God, Shuichi needed to know she’s okay. He needed to know they’re all okay. Next was Kaito. On the fourth attempt, he reached Kaito’s voicemail.

“Kaito! Oh my god, I got through. We’re—“

Then Shuichi’s phone dropped the call. He threw his phone in the cup holder and grunted over the music. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel until his palm hurt. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair—

Kokichi snatched his wrist and lowered it into Shuichi’s lap. “You’re going to activate the airbag if you keep doing that.”

Ha, Kokichi cared about the airbag.

“Please, just…” Shuichi snatched his wrist away. “Don’t talk to me right now.”

Kokichi’s eyes drifted to his own phone. At this point, “Lollipop” by Lil Wayne blasted through the speakers. His nose scrunched up as he scrolled through the playlist until he found the song he wanted.

Shuichi recognized the opening immediately. He knew that drumbeat anywhere. His finger began to tap on its own accord, but Shuichi bit down on his lip.

_This was their song back when they were a trio. Kaito, Kokichi, Shuichi—KKS. Back before Kaede joined the dynamic._

“I hear the drums echoing tonight,” mumbled Kokichi under his breath. “But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.”

Shuichi kept his eyes forward, away from Kokichi.

“She's coming in, 12:30 flight. The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation.”

Kokichi lifted his chin up but Shuichi still refused to look his way. His defiant side held up the crumbling walls.

“I stopped an old man along the way. Hoping to find some long forgotten words or ancient melodies.”

Kokichi leaned into Shuichi’s shoulder. He’s a demon, he shouldn’t be allowed to sense Shuichi’s inner struggle to stay composed.

“He turned to me as if to say, ‘Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you.’”

Shuichi found himself beating the drum part out on the steering wheel, tension beginning to ease away. Kokichi smiled, taking that as his cue to sing louder.

Shuichi survived the chorus without breaking, yet he continued with the drum part against his wishes. Kokichi kept getting deeper into the song, and Shuichi lost his composure going into the second chorus.

“It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa. Gonna take some time to do the things we never had!” 

They sang together at the top of their lungs. Kokichi pretended to play the solo over the bridge. Shuichi sang the chorus when it came back around as Kokichi sang the harmony over top. He’s known for years this hidden talent he held, but as Kokichi sang harmony, his voice really sailed out, clear, in tune, and rich, and it caught Shuichi by surprise every time. He has a real talent with his voice, and Shuichi found himself jealous at how natural Kokichi carried harmony.

When the song concluded, Kokichi sunk in his seat, feigning exhaustion. He wiped his brow and glanced over at Shuichi expectantly. Shuichi couldn’t recall what song played in the background now, but he would forever remember the way Kokichi’s eyes lit up when Shuichi smiled in return. The way the dim street lights illuminated Kokichi’s face, yet shadows danced across his brow. He was grimy, bloodied, and the spot beneath his eyes showed signs of a tired darkness, but Kokichi’s smile made all the grossness disappear along with Shuichi’s growing anxiety.

And then Kokichi’s gaze flipped to a blank stare as he glared over Shuichi’s shoulder, the moment gone as quickly as it arrived. All negative feelings returned like an ocean wave, a gentle push and pull until a storm arrived. Hopefully, the storm never came.

Shuichi turned to his window in time to watch a zombie launch onto a person on the street. The male zombie outsized the small woman, and she crashed onto her knees. He bit into the gentle slope between her neck and shoulder. Shuichi lifted his foot off the gas.

“Don’t you dare.” Kokichi placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I know, I know—I just—she needs—“

“It’s her or us, Saihara.” For some reason, Kokichi using his last name stung. Like a reminder that even though they had a moment, they’re still on bad terms. “Keep driving.”

“I—O-Okay.”

The playlist shuffled again this time to some stupid ballad about a bear animatronic from a video game. Immediately the mood shifted again, the ocean of his soul crashed against rocks, and Shuichi reached for Kokichi’s phone.

“What the hell—pay attention to the road! I’m the DJ here.”

“Change the song!”

“Why—“

“You fucking know why.” Shuichi glared at him. Tears threatened to spill again, and Shuichi felt pathetic. How many times could he cry in one hour? “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what happened the last time we heard this song.”

Kokichi frowned but didn’t change the song. “Maybe we should talk—“

“Talk about it?” Shuichi finished for him. “Now you want to fucking talk?”

“You're right. I lied.” Kokichi’s lips stretched into a thin, small smile. “I specifically played this song to see if you still hated it. You’re so predictable, Saihara. It’s just a song, silly. _You_ put it on the playlist after what we did.”

_After what we did._

Shuichi shuddered as an image flashed behind his eyelids. Them on Shuichi’s roof. Talking about school. Talking about baseball. Talking about Kaede. Too much talking, he thought in that moment.

Shuichi shook his head. All past moments were tainted because of Kokichi, even the simple ones.

“Yeah well, that was before you screwed everything up.” Shuichi squeezed the steering wheel until a numb static spread through his fingers. “That was before I truly knew who you are.”

Kokichi fell silent and stared out the passenger side window. Well, all he could stare at was blood, but his dramatic flare still worked. Shuichi snatched Kokichi’s phone and skipped it. Some stupid country song came on, but it was better than _that_ song.

Kokichi gave him whiplash in a span of ten minutes. This couldn’t be good for his mental health.

They stayed silent until Shuichi turned onto the interstate. Abandoned cars lined the ramp, and Shuichi drove slow around the cars until he made it onto the interstate. A smart car folded like an accordion into a semi truck, blocking their merge lane from connecting to the main road. Shuichi drew the car to a stop and placed it in park.

“Well, what now?” Shuichi asked even though he knew the answer.

“We travel on foot. If we go north—“ ah, that’s where his uncle said to go, “—then we’ll be going away from the city. If we head south, we’ll walk right by the city. However, by the looks of it, more people headed north.”

“What are you saying?”

Kokichi shrugged. “Both ways are dangerous? Can you not think for yourself?”

Shuichi breathed through his nose to center his anger before he spoke again. Kokichi really wanted to be punched—not like Shuichi would ever actually do that.

“Okay, but which way are you leaning?”

“Hm, does Saihara have a preference already?” Kokichi tapped his lip. “How about we say which way we want on the count of three?”

“Seriously?”

“One.”

“Oh my god, you are serious.”

No, no, no, no, Kokichi wanted to dictate the decision. Kokichi forced him in a corner.

“Two.”

He’d mock Shuichi and choose the other way.

“You’re a child.”

They’d fight over it.

“Three.”

“North,” said Shuichi, alone.

“Ha! Got you.” Kokichi cupped a hand around his mouth. “Saihara wants to go north? North is fine with me.”

That… was easier than he expected. Shuichi’s eyebrows furrowed as he waited for the catch. Kokichi said nothing as he grabbed his backpack and large knife from the backseat. He even handed Shuichi his backpack and scooter.

“So… that’s it?” Shuichi pushed.

“Hm?” Kokichi hummed. He tossed a piece of bubblegum in his mouth and chewed. “Whaddaya mean?”

“...nothing. Nevermind.”

Shuichi opened his car door as the sun began to peek over the horizon to the east. The colors and serene sight might have been peaceful if Shuichi couldn’t hear screaming in the distance from the south. It felt sinful that he’d enjoy a sunrise when those in the city were slaughtering each other.

He unfolded his scooter and mounted it.

“We’re doing this again?” Kokichi frowned. He popped a bubble softly.

“I won’t go fast,” Shuichi promised. Kokichi popped another bubble with a perked eyebrow. Shuichi looked for an excuse. He shouldn’t need an excuse to ride his damn scooter on the interstate… what a strange thing to do, actually. “I’m injured. I need to take weight off my ankle.”

“Take weight off,” parroted Kokichi as he pointed to the leg Shuichi leaned on, the leg with all the wraps. Shuichi wanted to facepalm. “Oh, I see! Saihara must’ve wrapped the wrong ankle then. Nobody would lean on their hurt ankle if it truly hurt. Silly boy.”

“Don’t patronize me.” Before Shuichi could scooter off, Kokichi caught him by the hood. “Dude, what the hell—“

Kokichi pointed with his large knife at a small group of zombies wandering around up ahead. “Do you have a real weapon?”

Shuichi folded his scooter again with a sigh. He motioned toward the scooter and Kokichi rolled his eyes. He could already picture Kokichi repeating himself. _A_ real _weapon, Saihara._

“I have kitchen knives.”

Kokichi smirked as he dug through Shuichi’s sad collection of knives. “Heh, mine’s bigger than yours.”

Shuichi’s face heated up. Kokichi snickered and tossed the plastic knives away. He waved the butter knives in front of Shuichi’s face.

“Hey, not all of us have ridiculously large knives lying around!” Shuichi swatted at Kokichi’s teasing hand.

“It’s a machete. Big difference.” Kokichi held it up. “You need to pay attention to these things. You need to learn what weapons work and what weapons will get you killed.”

Shuichi examined the knife—er, machete—like Kokichi asked. The blade appeared broad and strong, durable against hard objects. If Shuichi had to guess, the blade reached around thirty-five centimeters in length, a great length for someone like Kokichi to swing around and not exhaust himself too soon. Blood caked the blade, proof that it’s served Kokichi well in battle.

Which raised the question.

“Where did you even get that?”

Kokichi smirked and said, “Dad.”

Ah. That explained it. Shuichi couldn’t help the invisible hand that clutched his heart at that single word.

“Here.” Kokichi shoved a weapon in Shuichi’s hand. “Managed to nab this from your uncle’s room before I went to my house.”

The thought of Kokichi _looting_ his house was infuriating enough, but then Shuichi took a good look at what Kokichi stole. It’s a 9mm Glock 17, super standard stuff from his basic firearms training under his uncle, but…

“Some gun—“ _it’s a pistol, if we want to be more specific,_ Shuichi wanted to tell Kokichi. “—that I thought could be useful. I don’t know how to shoot it, but my Spidey senses say the detective-in-training knows exactly what to do.”

Of course. It’s all part of the training.

“That’s not how Spidey sense—ugh, nevermind. No, I don’t.”

That didn’t mean he wanted to use it, though.

“I don’t appreciate liars.” Kokichi frowned. Shuichi felt the heat from an unseen spotlight. That obvious, huh? “It’s not loaded anyways. Or is it? Take a shot and find out.”

Shuichi shook his head as he stuffed the gun in a side pocket of his backpack. “You’re insane. The sound will attract them straight to us!”

“You’re learning.” Kokichi bopped Shuichi’s nose. “You passed lesson number one in our survival training. Don’t fire the gun unless absolutely necessary. Now, what’s a way to get us out of here without having to fight?”

Was Kokichi serious? He’s giving him survival lessons in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? Shuichi groaned as he surveyed his surroundings. They could throw rubble across the interstate or at cars. They could sneak between cars as silently as possible. They could…

Shuichi nodded as he motioned Kokichi to hide behind a car a few yards away. Kokichi did as instructed, he crouched behind a white sedan that’s lights were left on. His purples eyes locked onto Shuichi, watching in interest to see what he had planned.

He held a finger over his mouth and Kokichi responded with a wave of his hand. Shuichi leaned into the car, switched the input to the radio, and blasted some classical music at the highest the knob would turn.

Mozart’s Symphony No. 40 in… G Major? Or was it G Minor? Minor’s when it sounds angry or sad, right? Er... Kaede played it a lot when he was over doing homework. He should know the name.

Guess it didn’t matter anymore.

The zombies up ahead turned their heads and made their way toward the SUV. Shuichi snuck behind the cars, careful to avoid stepping on or bumping into anything that created noise. He ducked down next to Kokichi and waited.

One zombie climbed into the car and tumbled into the passenger seat. Another heard her flailing about and followed into the driver’s seat. Shuichi stifled a laugh with the back of his hand when three zombies bumped into the door until it shut, trapping the two inside.

“Wow,” drew out Kokichi, his breath low and in Shuichi’s ear. Goosebumps covered his neck even though Kokichi’s breath was hot on his neck. “I think they’re stealing our car.”

Shuichi wanted to pat his cheeks to fight the heat, but he opted on flipping his hood up. “This is some crazy GTA V mod.”

“Yeah, but there’s no hookers, so I’ll give it a bad rating.”

Both boys shushed each other as near silent laughs tore through their bodies. Kokichi nudged Shuichi with his elbow and Shuichi caught himself on his palm. Shuichi pushed back and Kokichi caught the side of the car. He flashed Shuichi his classic smirk, as if he had a comment that needed to be said, which, knowing Kokichi, did not need to be said.

Whatever Kokichi had to say would probably kill their feel good moment.

A zombie rushed out of the bushes on the other side of the interstate. He ran on all fours, on his knuckles as he focused his eyes on the car. Veins strained against the dark gray skin. This zombie was different, much bigger than the others in terms of bulk. When he reached the SUV, he punched through the glass, connecting with the zombie inside in the process. He beat against the car to reach the noise, denting and destroying the SUV into scrap metal pieces. Fresh blood dribbled from his mouth, and the zombie wore it across his bare chest like war paint. Shuichi could _smell_ all the blood from yards away.

Turned out Kokichi didn’t need to say anything for the moment to end.

Kokichi and Shuichi locked eyes. A conversation passed between them telepathically.

Get the fuck out?

Yeah, get the fuck out.

They both backed away from the scene at a snail’s pace. If their lives weren’t on the line, it might’ve been comical. Shuichi didn’t laugh, and wisely enough, neither did Kokichi. The little bit of humor burned away like fire and gasoline.

Mozart’s symphony stopped with a choke of static before it faded to silence.

Shuichi followed close behind Kokichi as he led them between cars and rubble and dead bodies and… Shuichi fought down the bile that threatened to surface. If he had his way, he’d ride his scooter into oblivion, but with that crazy zombie somewhere behind them and all the bodies littered around, it wasn’t worth the trouble.

Zombies appeared from underneath cars, from behind trees, from inside of cars at the call of the zombie fighting the car. Shuichi dodged the walking dead as they headed south toward the zombie that could kill them in one punch while the duo ran any direction but south.

That’s what began their daily routine for the next three weeks. During the day, they’d dart between cars. They’d gain as much distance as they could, kill as few zombies as possible. Kokichi liked to remind Shuichi that they’re two people first, zombie killers second. If they could save energy and stay safe, that’s priority one.

Around week two of their travel, they caught sight of another group of two a few yards ahead of them. Shuichi called out to them, and one shouted back, another waved. It’s the first group of survivors the duo had come across in a few days, and frankly, Shuichi and Kokichi both desperately needed other company.

“Helloooooooo!” the girl called a bit too loud. Shuichi flinched at the loud call.

Her piercings twinkled in the sunlight. Between the horns on her head and the colored streaks in her hair, she seemed like the exact kind of person Shuichi would avoid at school. She sounded nice enough, though, and she seemed genuinely happy to see someone.

“It’s a demon, run!” Kokichi gave Shuichi a light shove. “Save yourself.”

“Be nice,” said Shuichi through gritted teeth. He answered her with a wave.

“Hey, I know you from my old school!” She pointed at Kokichi with both hands. “You play that one sport. You’re temporarily suspended for stealing bikes around campus!”

So he did do it.

“Tck, this again?” Kokichi posed with his machete on his shoulder. “Man, you and Saihara both like taking statements at face value! Maybe you should _ask_ instead of _telling_ me I did it. The real story is soooo much more interesting.”

“Ibuki,” an overweight male finally caught up to her. Shuichi hated the thought, but he couldn’t deny that he sounded like his mouth was full of gumballs. “Didn’t Leon tell you that at band practice?”

“Hmmmm, yep!” Then Ibuki’s grin dropped to a blank stare. “Um, Hifumi. How do you know that exactly?”

“Eek!”

Ibuki’s eyes narrowed. “Were you _spying_ on us again?”

“Please, have mercy!”

Kokichi’s smile faltered before straightening out again. He leaned onto Shuichi’s shoulder and whispered, “Let’s ditch these losers, Saihara. The fat one will just slow us down, and I don’t like Ibuki. She looks like someone Korekiyo would loooove to hang out with.”

“We’ll be right back, sorry.” Shuichi gave a small wave to the duo before snatching Kokichi’s arm. He led Kokichi around behind a car, out of earshot of the others but still close enough where everyone had visual of each other. “Didn’t we say we wanted to find others? Yeah, maybe they’re goofy, but we can’t cut off numbers just because you have personal issues with someone.”

“Personal issues? Oh, do you think you have me pegged and figured out? Though, I do admit that if I ever see Leon again, I’ll toooootally punch him.” Kokichi cocked his head to the side. Shuichi subtly heard Ibuki hit Hifumi in the background. “This is a survival game. They’re just NPC’s.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Shuichi ran a hand through his hair. “Have a bit of sympathy. They’ve survived two weeks on their own. They at least have a bit of skills.”

“They don’t have any weapons.”

“H-Huh?”

“Clean your ears. I don’t like repeating myself.” Kokichi grabbed Shuichi’s chin and turned him toward the others. Shuichi examined them, and… Kokichi was right. “They’ve survived off dumb luck. We don’t have enough to help them, and they have nothing for us in return.”

“B-But—“

Ibuki smacked Hifumi with a resounding _slap!_ Her face was heated and Hifumi whimpered.

And everything went to hell.

One of those larger zombies darted from behind a car and _lifted_ Ibuki, tossing her around like a rag doll. Despite their distance, Shuichi knew the sound of a skull smashing all too well now, and he shut his eyes as the body fell limp. Her face became a skid mark across the road, only adding to the mess from the zombie’s last killing.

Shuichi tightened his grip around his scooter. He’s one person, but if they all worked together, he could save Hifumi. It’s too late for the poor girl, but he could be saved. He wanted to take a step forward, yet fear weighed his ankles down.

Was it fear or guilt that weighed him down? Because he caused their deaths due to his inaction?

“Saihara.”

“N-No…” Shuichi shook Kokichi’s hand off. “I-I… This is…”

Kokichi tugged lightly on Shuichi’s sleeve until he complied, leaving Hifumi to fend for himself. His shrieks drew zombies out of hiding and he was swiftly surrounded. Shuichi flipped his hood up and pulled the cloth tight against his ears. He’d take the scratchy sound and the ringing in his ears over the screams ripping through the air.

Kokichi pulled car door handles until one finally opened. He motioned for Shuichi, so Shuichi hopped into the passenger side. He sunk into the seat in case the zombies could suddenly see him, better safe than sorry. Kokichi slipped into the driver’s side and sunk below the steering wheel.

“We should have helped them.” Shuichi couldn’t stop the words from escaping his mouth in a pathetic whisper.

This argument came up multiple times a week. They’d find survivors only for zombies to attack. The outbreak was still too fresh, people were still learning to survive. Unfortunately, most people didn’t fight like or have someone like Kokichi who immediately sprang to action if he or Shuichi were in danger. So when zombies made their move, Shuichi wanted to help. Kokichi wanted to run. Shuichi followed the only person he knew because in the long run, he’d take Kokichi over some random stranger.

The cycle continued.

“Have the balls to use that gun yet or were you going to fend off that monster with your scooter?” Kokichi hissed. He denied Shuichi eye contact by staring out the window on his side.

“Yes—No—I don’t know!” Shuichi felt his voice rising in his chest. He took a moment to calm his pounding heart. “Would it kill you to have emotions? Maybe we couldn’t save Hifumi, but we should have tried.”

“I’m keeping us _alive._ Let your morality drink that, and tell me when that drug hits your system. The numbness helps.” Kokichi tapped a rhythm on the hilt of his machete. Shuichi couldn’t make sense of that tick and he chose to gauge it through a question that’s lingered on his tongue for the past two weeks.

“If that was me out there, would you have left me?”

Kokichi didn’t speak.

“Holy shit.” Shuichi shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

From his seat, he could see the zombies pulling Hifumi apart, piece by piece. Even the zombie that ran on all fours abandoned Ibuki’s limp body in favor of Hifumi. He shoved the other zombies aside until he bit into Hifumi’s stomach. The zombie reached inside to lift out what Shuichi believed to be intestines. More meat to devor on Hifumi than Ibuki.

_What the fuck intrusive thoughts!_

Kokichi’s blank stare cracked but returned before Shuichi discerned the emotion. “And if the roles were reversed, I hope you’d leave me too.”

“That won’t happen because—“

Then Shuichi _heard_ it. The faintest of whimpers from the backseat. He spotted the tri-colored fur from the corner of his eye. Black, white, and a rusty red color all mixed together to form a distinct pattern.

“Kokichi, oh my god, Kokichi.” His voice came out a lot louder and more excited than he intended. Shuichi kept tapping Kokichi’s shoulder until he finally tore his eyes away from the window. “Kokichi, _it’s a dog._ ”

Kokichi covered Shuichi’s mouth with his hand as a few zombies passed by. Shuichi pointed at the dog, which he noted was somewhere between the puppy stage and adult stage. Wow, it’s fur looked so thick! He wanted to pet it.

“Kokichi,” said Shuichi, muffled by Kokichi’s hand. “I want it.”

“Hey—“

“I want to touch it.”

“Are you insane? It looks starved—actually, you know what?” Kokichi dropped his hand. His voice came out as a harsh whisper, “touch it, Saihara. I dare you.”

Shuichi glanced out his window, and when the zombies were out of range, he reached for the dog. He was so absorbed into those intelligent, dark eyes that he missed the telltale signs. He didn’t notice the ribs poking through the fur. He didn’t notice the way its’ tail darted between its’ legs as he reached closer.

The dog bared its teeth until Shuichi came too close. Shuichi barely pulled back in time to avoid a bite. He felt betrayed, it’s so cute, and fluffy, and soft looking, and—

“Ha! You idiot.” Kokichi dug into his backpack until he pulled out a Slim Jim. He held it out to the dog, who kindly accepted the food offer. “He’s starving. Animals and zombies aren’t much different, are they?”

“But—“

The dog climbed into the front seat and made his home in Kokichi’s lap. Kokichi scratched him between the ears with a warm smile. Shuichi’s jaw dropped open and he stubbornly crossed his arms.

“He only likes you because you fed him.”

“You know, they say dogs are a good judge of character.” Kokichi smirked and shrugged. “Guess he senses how I’m _such_ a great person and how stupid and boring Saihara is.”

“Whatever.”

Shuichi puffed his cheeks, much like Kaede did when Kokichi irritated her. He really missed her, a lot. She always knew what to say in these moments when Shuichi felt alone and hurt. Kokichi liked to really dig in where he’s insecure, but Kaede… Kaede brought out the good in him. That’s why they worked so well together. She’s confident where Shuichi faltered, and Shuichi’s insightful where she lets her ideals cloud her judgement. Kaede’s pushy nature got things done, and Shuichi kept his eye out for the details.

Kaede wouldn’t have thrown Hifumi to the zombies.

Dammit, he had so much he wanted to say to her, and he might not ever have the chance. He wondered if she knew how much he thought about her even after they resolved to stay just friends. It’s stupid, and he felt like a stereotypical, whiny teenage boy in love with his ex, but he can’t help how he felt.

I mean, how could he ever get over her when she was there for him in his darkest hour.

Well, this was his darkest hour now, and he’s fucking stuck without her and Kaito. Out of all people, he had to be with—

“Would adopting a dog make us okay for now?”

Shuichi perked an eyebrow as he question grounded him back in reality. “H-Huh?”

“Would adopting a dog make you feel better? Someone abandoned him here, and…” Kokichi kept his eyes on the dog. Shuichi couldn’t believe the question, so he sat there in silence. After a while, Kokichi smiled, one that Shuichi pegged as sadder than the ones he normally flashed, and said, “just kidding! I don’t want a dog. All he would do is dwindle our food supply, and—“

“I’d love to keep the dog,” Shuichi admitted. He gave Kokichi a small, appreciative smile. Okay, maybe Kokichi wasn’t heartless, but he’d never say it aloud. “But… I think he’ll end up being your dog more than mine.”

“Well, of course! Triple Stack knows who his supreme leader is.” Kokichi nuzzled the dog’s face. “I lied. I don’t care about how Saihara feels. I just wanted him to let me keep the dog. Can’t go back on it now!”

There’s so much in that statement that caused Shuichi to glare that he didn’t know where to begin. Typical.

“Triple Stack?” he settled on.

“Triple Stack Chocolate Chip Pancake, but Triple Stack for short.” Kokichi hugged the dog. “Every Bernese Mountain dog deserves a strong name. Breakfast is the strongest meal of the day, so—”

“Healthiest,” Shuichi corrected. Kokichi waved off his comment. “If, um, that’s the name we’re going with, I think Pancake would serve as a better shorthand.”

“You’re no fun. Fine. Pancake.” Kokichi’s grin was toothy, it created wrinkles by his eyes. It was the most honest smile Kokichi had given him in years. “You’re in charge of feeding him and cleaning him. I’ll be in charge of loving him.”

“Sounds like I’m doing all the hard work,” chuckled Shuichi. Honestly, he wasn’t surprised. “Maybe we should rotate—”

“Are you saying I’m lazy?” Kokichi’s eyes filled with crocodile tears.

“N-No, I’m—“

And Kokichi let it fly.

That’s how they fell into a solid routine for about a week. During the day, they’d walk, they’d eat, they’d run if they found zombies. Running away wasn’t so hard in their small group of two. Adding Pancake into the mix added new learning opportunities. Pancake’s collar was loud. Kokichi liked the purple collar too much to throw it out, so Shuichi took the tags off. Sometimes, Pancake’s panting drew too much noise to their hiding spot.

Kokichi kept saying that Bernese Mountain dogs are intelligent, give Pancake time. Just when Shuichi was beginning to think maybe adopting a dog in the middle of a zombie apocalypse was a terrible idea, Pancake showed signs of his tracking abilities. Randomly, Pancake would freeze and sniff the air. He looked off at the bushes and whimpered. The first time, Shuichi wanted to dismiss it but Kokichi grabbed his arm.

“Wait. Do you see that?” His voice was so low that Shuichi relied on his lip reading skills.

Shuichi followed his finger to the bushes. This time, Shuichi looked closer, he analyzed. Big, strong fists poked out from the leaves, veins strained against the gray skin. The leaves rose and fell in steady time with the breathing of the monster that hid within.

“Let’s switch sides of the road,” suggested Shuichi, whispering directly into Kokichi’s ear in case the zombie heard.

Pancake could sniff out the zombies they couldn’t see. Their day time travels grew safer, grew less scary when they didn’t have to look over their shoulders every five seconds. That didn’t mean they weren’t on high alert, but it took the edge off of Shuichi’s anxiety.

At night, Shuichi fell into a different routine. They’d take refuge inside of cars, which wasn’t ideal, but he’d take that over the road, the woods, an alleyway. He and Kokichi rotated night vigils every two hours as well. At first, Shuichi hated staying up into the night alone. He’d jump at every sound. His fears would consume him. Kaede, Kaito, and his uncle’s predicaments, whether they’re alive or dead almost a month into this outbreak, kept him up even when Kokichi offered to extend his shift so Shuichi could sleep longer.

Images of Ibuki’s face smacking the concrete. Hifumi’s squeals. The evil look in the zombie’s eyes as it pulled out Hifumi’s intestines.

One night, he couldn’t sit still. They were in a small hatchback with Kokichi sprawled out across the backseat. Pancake cuddled up against him and Kokichi laid an arm lazily around the dog. Kokichi looked peaceful. Shuichi wondered how Kokichi slept so deeply when the world died around them.

It was raining, which was normal around this time of year. Shuichi loved the rain, he loved the steady tap of rain against the car windows. He especially loved it at night back when he slept in his own bed, and it thumped, thumped, thumped against his ceiling. The sound soothed his ears, and he always found himself sleeping better on rainy nights because it drowned out the voices in his head.

Since the apocalypse started, rain put him on edge. Rain clouds darkened the sky and at night it hid away the stars, which helped light the interstate. On nights like this, it was so dark that Shuichi almost couldn’t see the light posts. It made it harder to watch and listen for zombies, and Shuichi just offered to take longer shifts because he wouldn’t be sleeping anyways.

Shuichi dug through his backpack until he found the walkie talkie. He did what he did every night, turned to channel 3 and made the same call out.

“Hey, Kaito. It’s me again.” Shuichi made a tally mark in his pocket sized notebook. This was the sixth night he’d tried this. Sixth tally mark. “I know you probably didn’t grab your walkie when you escaped—hell, only reason I did is Kokichi grabbed his—but I’m going to keep trying every night. I know you’re out there. You’re not the kind of guy to lie down in this situation. Wherever you are, I hope… I hope you’re doing okay.”

He felt stupid. Kaito would never grab his walkie talkie, he’d be surprised if Kaito even still had it. Kokichi’s dad brought these home one time when they were kids, so they used the walkies to play a stupid game they made up. Their own spin on cops and robbers: detective and DICE. Kaito and Shuichi would rotate roles. Sometimes Himiko would come over and play the damsel in distress. But Kokichi was always on the DICE side because he played the best villain.

Shuichi stole a glance at Kokichi’s sleeping form. Six times Kokichi’s made them leave survivors to fight alone, so Shuichi guessed not much has changed since they were kids.

“Anyways, I’m with Kokichi. Just my luck, huh?” Shuichi chuckled softly. “He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s kept us alive. So I guess it’s not all bad. We’ve made it about eighty miles north of the city now. We’re moving slow, but we’re moving safe. If that makes sense. Ah, well… If you’re nearby, please give me a call. I always have my walkie on. If not… I’ll try calling again tomorrow. Try not to be too much of a hero, yeah? What’s this sidekick going to do if you’re gone?”

Shuichi meant to turn the volume down in case Kaito actually answered. Instead, he bumped the wrong button and changed to channel 4.

“—of guerrilla sightings at—stay clear. This species is known for its sensitive hearing—”

Shuichi covered his mouth to contain his gasp. A glance at Kokichi showed that the small boy slept through the noise but Shuichi still lowered the volume of the walkie out of courtesy.

“—big fists, but it’s blind like most of the zombie species out there—”

What the hell? Shuichi flipped a page in his notebook and scribbled down what he heard.

_Guerrilla(?) - sensitive hearing, big fists, and blind._

“It’s slightly bigger than your average zombie, and it’s much more violent.”

What did he stumble across? The voice was deep and steady as if he read off a script. Shuichi continued to write down information the man spat off about “guerrillas,” refusing to miss anything vital.

He’s seen exactly what the man described. A guerilla destroyed the SUV. He’s seen a guerilla fling a lifeless body around. This broadcast covered zombie _species_. This wasn’t like _The Walking Dead_ where zombies only stumbled about and were generally the same. No, whatever caused this outbreak created monsters much more dangerous.

And it didn’t stop there. The man continued to list off species, so Shuichi continued to scribble down notes. It was enlightening, it’s comforting to know how to combat different types of zombies.

At the same time, Shuichi was absolutely terrified that he and Kokichi had barely scratched the surface of what this apocalypse truly was.

Pancake lifted his head and whimpered. Shuichi closed his notebook and tossed it into his backpack. One glance out the window and Shuichi understood what he was up against. His stomach twisted in knots, but he knew what needed to be done. He armed himself with what he needed for combat.

Kokichi sat up when Pancake whimpered again and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “What is it boy?”

A scream erupted from the survival group a few yards from their hatchback. Shuichi counted the zombies. He _observed_ the zombie species. Shuichi saw his course of action.

Kaito and Kaede wouldn’t leave someone to die, so why should he when he held all the knowledge to combat the zombies?

“Saihara, leave it,” warned Kokichi, feeling the tension in the air. “It’s raining, and you don’t know what’s out there.”

“I know how to fight them.” Shuichi tightened his grip on his scooter. “I can save them. It’s only two people and five zombies. We can do this.”

He didn’t see two girls out there. Instead, he saw Ibuki and Hifumi. Shuichi could fix this.

“What—“

Shuichi unlocked the car door and ran out into the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow us on Twitter:  
> @DillasWrites  
> @M_BTree
> 
> Tweet at me about ShuichixScooter.
> 
> Tweet troll faces at TheMayBellTree, and let her know I sent you ;)
> 
> (Pssssst make sure to read Side B next before chapter 3)
> 
> Hey, I got beta’d. This wasn’t trash like my stuff usually is lol.


	3. Phase 1: 4 Months, 4 Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hatchet [ˈhaCHət]_  
>  **noun**  
>  a small ax with a short handle for use in one hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie it's Independence Day in America! Take this as my celebration.
> 
> WOWIE again. Over 500 hits on chapter 2?! I'm beginning to think people like zombie AU's ;)
> 
> Also, PLEASE check out these amazing fanarts done by buddies of mine and give them a follow:
> 
> ART BY ASH :D (Twitter: https://twitter.com/ash_d00d)  
> Concept art of Shuichi:  
> https://twitter.com/DillasWrites/status/1005962799246430208  
> Concept art of Kokichi:  
> https://twitter.com/ash_d00d/status/1005564661285163010
> 
> ART BY MANGAKEN, WHOSE ART ACTUALLY INSPIRED A SCENE IN THE FIC :D (Twitter: https://twitter.com/mangaken_art)  
> https://twitter.com/mangaken_art/status/1003323700756635648?s=21
> 
> Aaaaaand here’s the KKS~ playlist mentioned in the chapter:  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/dillaswrites/playlist/13BUnrRAFXpZRt7TyruQM5?si=8SrlhxXrTsyBY8zn0YUtOQ

“Pick a card.”

It’s humid outside, and Kokichi’s hair curled more on the edges than normal. He fiddled with a piece between his fingers, swearing that it’s wet from the air, not his late shower. At this rate, his hair will frizz out and he’ll look unpresentable. Not that it mattered, he stopped caring what people thought of him over two years ago.

Of course he didn’t care.

“Hey… pick a card.”

The weather app promised a cooler day, yet Kokichi sweated up a flood. Kokichi wiped his brow with one hand and untied his scarf with another. The smallest of sweat stains appeared on a white square, yellow and stinky, two things he hated. With a whine, Kokichi folded it and stuffed it in his pocket.

“It’s going to wrinkle anyways when you do that,” said Himiko with a frown. She shuffled the deck of cards in her hand and kept her eyes on the road as if it might disappear from her feet. “Nyeh, did you check the weather app before you left?”

Why did they have to live so close to the school? Traveling by bus was so practical. It kept them off the streets in treacherous weather such as rain, snow, tornados… thick blankets of humidity.

“What’s the point of showing one temperature but a different measurement shows for the “feels like” temperature?! I don’t have time to scroll down! It’s bullshit.”

Kokichi kicked a rock to emphasize _bullshit._ Himiko’s eyes followed each bounce like it’s a rock skipping across a pond instead of pavement. She placed a cold hand on his elbow, which Kokichi immediately moved to his cheek.

“How the hell are you so cool all the time? It’s not faaaaair.”

“I’m casting heat protection on you.”

“It’s not hot out, it’s humid.”

“Humidity… protection?”

Kokichi rolled his eyes and moved her hand to his other cheek. “Don’t think that’s a thing. Reread your spell book, scrub.”

“S-Scrub?! At least my sleeping spell wore off on time. You need to practice your spells.” Himiko shoved the deck of cards in his face. “Speaking of… pick. A. Card.”

Kokichi pinched a card between his index finger and thumb, rubbing the waxy texture between his pads. He indulged her, “am I supposed to look or…?”

“Look and then put it back into the deck.” Kokichi slipped it between cards. Himiko’s face paled. “Already? But you didn’t even—“

“Yes I did! It’s not my fault your lazy ass doesn’t pay attention.”

Kokichi unzipped his hoodie and slipped it into his backpack. The breeze carried a cool air against his arms, cooling down his armpits. Truly, it wasn’t that hot outside, he’s over dramatic as usual. And actually, humidity wasn’t too bad. He’s just an idiot for dressing like it’s winter when it just rolled over to spring. What a silly oversight.

In fact, the day was almost nice out. Minus the after rain humidity, the wind felt great, barely any clouds covered the sky, and the usual annoying birds slept in after staying up all night in the storm.

Today would be a good day, he could feel it.

Himiko shuffled her cards, breaking the calm air.

“Is… _this_ your card?” Himiko held up the ace of hearts.

“Totally!” Kokichi gave her a thumbs up. Himiko’s eyes narrowed, and Kokichi knitted his hands behind his head. “Yeah, I have no idea.”

“I knew you didn’t look! You suck. Why do I put up with you?”

“Good question. I wouldn’t,” said Kokichi, a bit more earnestly than intended. He managed to leave the rest unspoken.

_Don’t need to think of him now of all times._

Himiko paused in the middle of the road in front of the school, eyes raking over Kokichi and leaving him bare and exposed even though he was very much dressed for the day. He tried to paint on a smile, but she’s one of two people that read him like a teen magazine. A car honked. Kokichi flicked off the driver and led her across.

“Kokichi.”

He hated that tone. The “I’m going to say something serious and you better listen close” tone Himiko rarely used.

“Ew, whatever you’re about to say, keep it to yourself. Your breath stinks.”

Himiko exhaled into her hand and sniffed. For a brief, glorious moment Kokichi thought he hurdled the conversation, free to dash the rest of the race at a swift pace, putting distance between him and the problem. His fingers curled around the entrance door to the school, and he was home free.

“I don’t care about rumors.” _Shit._ Spoke too soon. “What they say about you doesn’t change what I see and feel. You’re still my best friend. You should hear what they say about me and Tenko.” When he turned his head away, Himiko grabbed Kokichi’s chin and forced him to lock eyes with her. “I know which instance you’re thinking about, and I don’t care. You’re both idiots. I’m still not taking sides because I love you both.”

He rapped his fingers against the handle as a hum left his lips. “For someone who loves both of us, I never see you with him.”

“You’re my apprentice, and he’s not. It’d be a waste of my teaching ability if my best client quit.”

“I’m your only client.”

Kokichi entered the school with Himiko on his tail.

“I’m trying to be nice to you!”

“Himiko’s being weird this morning.” Kokichi’s nose scrunched, waving a hand like she had bad BO. Maybe if he waved the bait in front of her again, she’d bite. “I think she’s under a curse. Lose a duel? A bet? A spell go wrong? Sleep funny? Eat a poisoned apple?”

Himiko punched his shoulder. “Whatever. Arguing with you is a pain. I hope you fail that physics test.”

“I hope your free period is super boring!”

Both glared until Kokichi stuck out his tongue and blew, spit flicking on her face and earning him a squeal from her. Himiko rolled her eyes, waved bye, and turned on her heels. Kokichi snatched her wrist, yanking her into a tight hug. She protested, her cry muffled by his chest and her attempts to push away were weak with no force. He hoped to convey everything he couldn’t put into words through this simple act.

“I… can’t… breathe!” He finally heard.

Kokichi released her, messed up her hair, and dashed to his physics class.

 

It only took twenty minutes for fifty questions.

Which… looking back on it, fifty questions on a test for seventeen-year-olds was a bit cruel, no?

Kokichi continued to chew on his pen. It’s not as satisfying as chewing on his pencil, his teacher had this weird rule about writing in pen. The pen was hard, didn’t have the same pleasing crunch between his teeth. If he really wanted to, he could crush the pen and shatter it to pieces. He’d get ink everywhere, sure, but how many people could say they bit straight through a pen?

Yeah, he was bored.

As he chewed, he began to count the number of times Shuichi, who sat in front of him, clicked his pen. A few classmates scoffed at Shuichi once the number reached greater than six. _Good,_ a cruel part of him thought, and he quickly erased that with a sigh. He wished he could erase more than that, but he’s not a mage with an endless amount of spells. Besides, drama builds character.

He’s over it really, he told himself over and over anytime Shuichi Saihara crossed his mind. They wronged each other, they’re both to blame. Yet bile burned the back of his throat when Shuichi sped up those damn pen clicks.

Kokichi couldn’t decide if he’s annoyed with Shuichi or mad that anxiety attacks were a thing that haunted his neighbor. So he picked a middle ground reaction.

And Shuichi actually responded. Kokichi wanted to smirk, realizing he cornered Shuichi into responding. The power exhilarated him, and he could really mess with the other. Even when their conversation began, Shuichi clicked his pen over and over.

“I-I’m s-sorry, please…”

Shuichi’s eyes darted around his face, anywhere but his eyes. It’s a habit he picked up after their falling out… Shuichi struggled to look anyone in the eye except Kaito. And Kaede—grrr, not out of jealousy but more out of frustration—most of the time, which he almost felt bad for helping cause that discord.

Did he really though?

No, he didn’t feel bad about anything that went down with Kaede. Kaito picked his side. And Shuichi… he let that friendship go when Shuichi—

“ _Kokichi_ , you’ve finished! What—“

There he went with the damn pen clicks again. Shuichi really was freaking out over this test, huh? Kokichi bit the inside of his cheek, deciding his course of action.

_Dammit._

“Oops, you got me!” Kokichi folded his hands behind his head. “Truth is, you’re fucking annoying. Or am I trying to distract you so you fail? Oh, wouldn’t that be a twist!”

“Ah, screw off.”

Silence. Shuichi Saihara returned to his test, almost immediately writing down an answer. Tension left the air as Shuichi relaxed into his chair. With a quick scan of the room, everyone still taking the test mimicked Shuichi.

Kokichi leaned back into his chair, pleased with his work. He was nice to Shuichi for once, even if the other didn’t understand the magic he pulled off, and Himiko would be proud of him for talking to Shuichi without spazzing out or making things worse. Oh, and he aced this test, which was most important. Didn’t even have to cross out an answer and restart a question.

It really was a good day, huh?

He traipsed on a high. Nailed the test and helped—er, _annoyed_ —that pest in front of him.

And Korekiyo Shinguji had to fuck up everyone’s good vibes.

Korekiyo was a freak. Kokichi indulged him one time, and Kiyo kept inviting him to shit. He went with Himiko to a seance once, and that was that. Even after the clusterfuck with Shuichi went down, Kiyo disregarded the rumors and facts in favor of wanting Kokichi around, wanting some semblance of belonging. Kokichi had Himiko for that, he sure as hell didn’t need Kiyo or anyone else.

Kokichi egged it on. He knew he did, but he didn’t deserve to die over his teasing habits. How was Kokichi supposed to know that his classmate wasn’t kidding around?

He dashed out of that classroom without any regrets, his pride be damned. _You abandoned Shuichi in there. Shut up, don’t care._ Kokichi had one person in mind, one person only.

The school was alive with screams from terrified children and a shriek that carried over all the traffic. It’s a madhouse, students pushed each other down, trampled each other if it meant escape from these monsters. Smell of iron overloaded all his senses, acid burning in the back of his throat as he avoided a glance toward a blood splatter on the wall.

Holy fuck. How the hell did the world burn down while he took a test?

“Himiko!” Kokichi shouted, his voice buried beneath it all.

He’s never been more thankful for his small stature. Kokichi ducked, hurdled, slid through the crowd, anything to avoid a leg or an arm knocking him over. If he fell, he’s dead. Death by smelly feet or death by… by...

Kokichi flattened himself against a locker to slip passed a student struggling to hold back a teacher. He ignored the cloudy, soulless eyes that narrowed as the teacher’s cheekbones raised into a snarl, saliva dribbling, frothy and soaking wet all over his chin. Kokichi ignored the grainy grunt that left his mouth and the student’s piercing scream, echoing around inside his head, followed sudden silence. He wanted to forget the sound of the female student rising off the ground again, so he dashed around the corner into the cafeteria.

_Female? That can’t be human._

“Himi—“

Someone with curls big enough to store acorns in for the winter rammed into Kokichi’s back. He staggered forward, grasping into empty air in hopes he’d find purchase on anything, and tripped over a lump on the floor. Shoes stomped all around him, a few sneakers catching and pinching the edges of his arms, as the crowd thickened, all heading any direction to escape the school. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, he fell, this was it, he’s dead dead dead dead—

 _If you fall, fucking stand back up,_ the familiar tone of his father resounded to silence his loud thoughts.

Okay, Dad didn’t mean that literally but the advice worked all the same.

Palms flush against the lump he fell on, fingers curling into the overcoat as he pushed himself to his knees. Overcoat? His eyes rolled up the body of Mondo Oowada (or was it Owada? He’s a grade above Kokichi so he wouldn’t know… not like it mattered anymore), locking onto his face. Skin hung loosely on his cheek like a person—zombie, he had to start saying zombie—munched on him then decided they didn’t like the flavor. If he looked close enough—jeez, why did he look close enough—he thought he spied the tiniest of holes, the tiniest of glance of faded white teeth.

Then those faded white teeth gritted and Mondo sat up to face Kokichi. The smaller teen leaned back on his heels so that corn looking hair didn’t poke his face. It missed his nose as Mondo glanced around the cafeteria, deciding which noise to chase after. Kokichi blinked and Mondo’s eyes lost all sense of spark, dulling away into a milky, fisheye stare. Though he looked straight at him, Mondo stared through him.

Kokichi stayed silent and still.

_If he wasn’t mistaken, Mondo looked significantly stronger than when he first tripped over him._

“Mondo!”

A hand yanked Kokichi back by the collar of his shirt and was replaced by a boy in all white. Kokichi recognized him, he’s the guy that always got onto him for hanging out on the roof during school hours. He leaned close to Mondo’s face, shaking him as if that’d help him comply.

Fists tightened, veins threatening to pop out of giant fists. Soulless eyes locked onto the other boy, suddenly aware exactly where someone was located. Mondo clicked his teeth as a last warning.

Kokichi shoved the guy in white, barely missing a swinging fist himself. Mondo stood to his feet, breathing heavily and grunting. Kokichi signaled for the other kid to shut the fuck up, he’ll get them both killed. The boy covered his mouth with the back of his hand.

Mondo reached into empty air. Someone across the cafeteria screamed, and his head snapped that direction with a sick crack. And he ran away, just like that, leaving the two boys behind.

Kokichi glared at the boy in white. “Wise the fuck up or you’ll get people killed. Got it?”

“B-But—“

Kokichi didn’t have time to waste talking to this stranger. He gave him a pity wave and was out. A quick glance around the cafeteria, and Kokichi came up empty handed. Zombies chomped on people, students and teachers alike turned moments later, very few fought back. There were a few bodies spread across the floor that were beaten so badly, Kokichi couldn’t recognize them.

No Himiko. Unless she’s beaten to bloody pulp somewhere on the ground. Tears pricked his vision, but he forced that down with hope like a pill. _She’s fine. She’s smart. Get out now, find her later._

He glanced toward the clock in the cafeteria. Only three minutes passed since he left his classroom, and it already felt like hours.

Kokichi found himself outside the front of the school. Though more students and teachers were outside fighting for survival, he felt safer in the open area. It’s not congested, he could breathe and move. He could _run_.

But to where?

“Sh-Shit.”

Kokichi stopped in his tracks. He knew that voice, all variations in any tone and emotion. And in today’s edition: dazed, in pain, and in need. Shuichi Saihara fell out of a window and laid vulnerable in the wet grass. He wasn’t moving, not fast enough to escape the zombie hanging out the window. Not fast enough to run away from the gangly hand squeezing his ankle.

Kokichi spared a glance toward the front gate. He had a clear shot, he could make it out… and then what? He had no weapon. He’d be running out alone with no one to cover his back.

It’s his duty as a human with a soul to save another, right? Even if it’s Shuichi Saihara, the world’s biggest asshole.

_Yeah, quit making excuses why you want to save Saihara and just do it._

“Fuck, Saihara, get up!”

Kokichi snatched the scooter off the ground and held it directly above his head. He knew this girl, she sat two desks away from him in physics class. She’s really good at math. She’s in the yearbook club. She helped plan the school dances this year. She’s on the archery team.

She also held Shuichi’s ankle to her mouth.

She’s not the same girl. She’s a monster.

And with two swings of the scooter, she wasn’t anything anymore. Only remnants of her existence were the dead body and the blood splattered across Kokichi’s stomach. The crunching of skull turned his act of heroism into a nightmare.

He killed someone. Dammit, he _killed_ someone. His hands trembled, blood already drying on his skin. He’s a pacifist and he killed someone.

This was different though, right? He did it to save Shuichi. That girl was a zombie, she’s not a person… not a person… she’s not a person…

 _It._ He killed it.

Shuichi was definitely worse off than he was. Still on the ground, Shuichi whimpered, the boy probably didn’t even realize how much noise he made or how pale he looked. Kokichi’s father always told him if he happened to fall into a survival situation, he needed to man up and lead because someone had to. People needed to see someone that was okay even if they weren’t, it gave them hope for the future. Find a way to make them strong.

So even though Kokichi fell apart on the inside, he led Shuichi.

And with each kill he made, Kokichi’s emotional switch grew closer to shutting off.

 

Home was hell.

When he was young, the house roared with life. He and his three younger brothers always came up with pranks to play against their mom everyday, and they’d try to pull pranks against their father when he was home from the military. He was smart, he wasn’t stupid like Mom. Dad outsmarted them.

Dad always brought home cool things! It’s… probably illegal that he kept these things, but Kokichi and his brothers adored it. Weapons, technology, anything really. It made pranks that much more fun!

He was cool. Anytime he brought a new object home, he taught Kokichi all about it. The advantages, the cons, the general use. Self-defense was a must as well. Kokichi was well suited for an apocalypse, he just never thought the day would come.

So he scanned his room upon entry. The bedroom was always live with scrap papers full of ideas, plans, the works sprawn all across his floor. If they liked it, it moved to one corner. If they didn’t, they’d crumple it up and save it for a “failed plan” snowball fight.

Until Mom and Dad got a divorce when Kokichi turned eleven. Dad took the two youngest brothers and all the fun. Kokichi’s room felt pretty empty without them.

He’d go back to Shuichi’s house, he wasn’t leaving. He just needed to pack a survival bag. Maybe his mom and stepdad weren’t home. Maybe his brother would be. Kokichi found himself to be half right.

“Business trip,” he had told Shuichi. His special code for “I’m scared to go home.” A code they created when his mom married that fucker not long after the divorce. He was abusive in every fashion to her, to Kokichi, to his brother.

Kokichi could feel his hands. Sometimes hands caused pain, leaving Kokichi broken. Sometimes hands were gentle, wrecking Kokichi in an entirely different way. Made his skin feel foreign, an unwelcome cage for his soul. On his best days, Kokichi wanted to shrug it off like a coat and because that’s an impossibility, Kokichi wore a mask.

He wondered if it’d come off if he wanted or if it’s attached to his skin.

_Shut up._

Luckily, the man wasn’t home.

Kokichi found that his house was actually sparse of supplies as if someone came home at some point to raid it. His mom and stepdad packed a bag and left, abandoning Kokichi to an almost empty house. He hoped they at least picked up his thirteen-year-old brother because Kokichi had no way of finding him now.

Kokichi checked his phone. No new calls, no messages, no notifications. No one bothered to check-in on him. Not even Himiko. She’s probably dead, anyways.

He blinked and shook his head. It wasn’t the time for self-deprecating thoughts.

He pressed the call button on Himiko’s contact. Static. Again. Static. Again. One ring and static. Her phone’s on, so that’s good, right? Himiko was fine. He’ll try again later when the initial zombie panic calmed down.

Next his dad. He got through once but the call dropped before he reached a voicemail. His phone’s on, another person to add to the “probably alive” list. The two brothers that live with his father were homeschooled, so they were all together. Had to be. They wouldn’t be apart randomly today of all days. Nope. All three were safe somewhere.

Growling, he tried his other brother, the one that lived with him and their mom. Instead of static, he’s greeted with the chipper tone of a voicemail recording. Kokichi gripped his phone hard enough that he thought he’d break it. The phone’s not dead… his brother charged it every night. The phone’s destroyed. Which could only mean—

“Fuck,” he said into the phone. He paused to calm down. “If you ever hear this… call me, okay? If it turns out you’re not dead, I’ll kill you myself for scaring me.”

He hung up with shaky hands. Kokichi needed to busy himself or he’d fall into panic mode. Shuichi relied on him to be strong right now, and he’ll find the time to fall apart when they’re safe.

Should he call his mom? He glanced into the pantry and reminded himself his house had been raided. His mom and stepdad left without him. No, calling her would be a waste. If they wanted him, they would’ve waited.

He actually preferred Shuichi over them.

Kokichi should pack up a supply bag. Right, that’s why he came here in the first place. That’d help, it’d definitely keep his mind off things.

He found a few cans, but the first aid kits were gone from the kitchen and bathrooms. All Kokichi had was the random assortment of weapons his dad gave him and a planner to keep track of the days.

So he packed it. He dug through his drawers until he found an old photo album he’d look at on his worst days. An old picture of his family when they were still together. Various pictures of him and Himiko over the years, his favorite being from a talent show years ago where Himiko sawed him in half. A picture of him and Kaito in their respective sports uniforms, baseball met lacrosse. Shuichi decked out in support and posing with Kokichi after a game where he and Leon both pitched a no hitter, Shuichi’s hand placed protectively on his hip, a touch a bit too intimate to be just friends…

Uh.

Anyways, it wasn’t the time to get sentimental. Kokichi stuffed it in his backpack.

He left his house behind.

 

Shuichi Saihara was the craziest son of a bitch Kokichi ever met.

He had some sort of complex that he needed to save every human being they came across. Through Kokichi’s experiences, people couldn’t be trusted. They use and abuse then leave. In a sense, Shuichi Saihara wasn’t so different, he swam with the tide like ninety-nine percent of people that came his way. That’s all people do, especially during the apocalypse. Shuichi’s watched and read enough shit to know this.

After spending weeks with him, Kokichi couldn’t find it in himself to straight up say no when Shuichi wanted to play hero. Well, he did say no, but he’d always evaluate a person for their usefulness and gauged their trustworthiness through a five second conversation. Maybe not the best strategy, but he didn’t give a shit.

He was protecting Shuichi, and he planned to keep it that way no matter how much Shuichi argued. So he developed three rules. If outsiders were to be allowed in, they must have: weapons, food, and a tolerable personality. Without the three rules, the person would drain their resources.

Shuichi reluctantly agreed to this but argued every time.

Their food supply was limited. Kokichi didn’t have much from home, and Shuichi could only fit so much into that tiny backpack he brought. The plastic Naruto bag began to fall apart from all the weight, so Kokichi took it upon himself to carry the food and ration it between them. Not to mention that Pancake was living solely off of Slim Jims. So he knew their near desperate food situation.

That’s the main reason why Hifumi and Ibuki couldn’t join them: no food. They also managed to survive almost a month with no weapons. How the hell? Kokichi and Shuichi barely made it by with a machete and a scooter.

No weapons, no food, no entry. That’s how he had to justify his choice as he watched them die. He told himself over and over that they would die anyways. Hifumi was too big to run away, and Ibuki was too stupid to fight out of a wet paper bag. Kokichi could do nothing for them.

That’s the lie he told himself until he believed it.

By that logic, his survival instincts wanted to abandon Shuichi at the first opportunity. His morality put Kokichi at risk, he had to chase after Shuichi or talk him down from acting. Nothing bad happened to them from it, but the storm was coming, literally and figuratively.

Kokichi knew a choice was coming soon and fast. It was only a matter of time before he lost his frienemy or Kokichi lost himself.

So when Shuichi decided to go rogue and ran out into the damn rain like a martyr willing to go down for their foolish beliefs, Kokichi had all sense of mind to let him go. He tried his best to show Shuichi that they can’t save everyone, Ibuki and Hifumi were toast from the beginning.

Survival instincts whispered _yes, run away and don’t look back._

When Shuichi jumped out of the car, leaving the door wide open and allowing the rain inside, all that came crashing down, the storm hit, and Kokichi stared it in the eye and screamed _fuck you_.

He dug through his backpack until he found his phone. Kokichi plugged it into the aux cord and hit shuffle on the KKS~ playlist, spinning the volume dial until the music blasted his eardrums and shook the small car.

“Stronger” by Kanye West blasted out of the car when Kokichi kicked the car door open, rain fell into his eyes and drenched his clothes. Thank god his hair was pulled back, wet hair in his face would be a bitch.

“Pancake, run,” he told the dog as if he’d actually listen. Pancake stayed close to Kokichi’s side as he dragged the machete across the pavement, creating a long, drawn out _screeeeeee_ —

Drawing attention to himself was a talent at this point. Ultimate attention whore sounded appropriate.

Darkness blanketed his sight, Kokichi only saw a few yards in front of him. The rain limited his vision as well. Only Shuichi fucking Saihara would run out into a storm to save girls. He probably thought one was Kaede since the doofus still seemed to have a weird attachment to her even though she shattered his heart.

Well, Shuichi did it to himself, and Kokichi totally didn’t have a part in it. Nope, Shuichi’s a big boy and made his own choices, and he burnt Kaede and Kokichi in the process. Which brought up the point.

Why the hell was he chasing after Shuichi again?

Right, morality. Stupid.

A zombie groaned as it stepped in Kokichi’s sight, using the music as a guide. It walked straight passed Kokichi to the car, stumbling inside. A small part of Kokichi felt sad, all their belongings were inside and now they wouldn’t be able to retrieve it. But items were just items in comparison to saving a precious soul.

Ew, Shuichi’s precious?

“Alright then,” he spoke to the dog. Kokichi patted Pancake. “Let’s rescue our damsel.”

The next zombie was smarter. It focused on the sound of his machete, reaching forward for Kokichi’s hoodie. Kokichi smirked, kicking it in the gut and laughing as it stumbled back. He swung the machete and sliced the zombie’s throat, blood pouring from the wound and across its tattered shirt. It crumpled to the ground.

“You notice that it doesn’t matter if you hit the head?” Kokichi noted to Pancake. “Hit a vital spot and poof! Done. Easy peasy.”

Pancake growled and ran into the storm. Kokichi kept pace with him until they took shelter behind a truck. He crouched low, fingertips grazing the soaked pavement and rain pounding against his back to drench him further. A shiver traveled up his spine, if they survived this one of them would end up sick. He flipped his hood up to protect his ears and head the best he could, but the damage was already done. The zombie apocalypse was not the place to catch cold, he would be slow, exhausted—

_Breathe. Focus._

Kokichi traced an invisible pattern on the cold pavement until the dog growled a low sound, the noise Pancake made when a different type of zombie showed up instead of the standard droid.

Droid. That’s what Kokichi so lovingly nicknamed the standard issue. Jeezus, he made them sound like action figures. Droids were stupid, blind, and weak. Easily taken down as long as they didn’t horde together. The zombie he killed moments before: droid.

Whatever was out there… not a droid.

“Shit, dammit!”

Kokichi dipped low enough under the truck to see a pair of legs fly through the air, green slime flinging every direction. A girl’s ass bounced against the pavement, her back falling flat and over the rain Kokichi heard a loud crack. She hollered in pain but she rolled over on her stomach, whatever it was, her back didn’t break.

Wet, blonde hair stuck to her face, covering up most of her fear. From the other side of the truck, her face softened, all fear left, she accepted her fate. She already came to terms with death, this was it.

She rolled on her side as if not to face her attacker in her final moments. Blue eyes locked onto Kokichi, and energy crackled between them. Fire returned in her eyes and a hand reached out to him under the truck in a last moment of hope. She had drive, fight left in her.

Kokichi wouldn’t let that go.

Rolling under the truck, he stretched enough to grasp her fingers, tightening his hold into a death grip, and yanked. His nails dug into her skin when the green foam threatened him into a possible forced release. Droplets of rain water splashed up in his eyes, her grunts deafened all other noise, his biceps and triceps screamed in defiance, but Kokichi pulled pulled pulled until she was up against him under the truck. She wrapped arms around him, holding him close and squishing her massive chest against him, breaths short and hot in his face. If he was straight, he might be embarrassed. If this was any other situation, he might be really embarrassed—not that he’d ever admit that.

Fists slammed into the green foam, flinging it in all directions. From the other side, Pancake growled. Must be one of the big, strong zombies. The girl opened her mouth to speak, so Kokichi flew a hand over her lips to muffle any sound. With his other hand, he patted the pavement softly, hoping the dog would catch the hint. Pancake crawled up against Kokichi’s back and waited.

If this was a comedy show, the record scratch would happen here. _You’re probably wondering how I got here. That’s me, Kokichi Ouma, trapped between a girl with huge tits and my dog under a truck in a storm._

Kokichi snickered. His brain chose the wrong time for comedy.

The zombie growled, jumping onto the bed of the truck. The weight dipped it down with each step as it tried to make sense of the new noise. The girl whimpered and shut her eyes, holding Kokichi tighter to her like he was her only life line. Her heart beat against his chest almost in sync with the steps of the zombie above them.

It slammed a large fist against the bed, and Kokichi’s ears rang with each hit. The zombie’s blind, but it sure as hell knew where they were. It was only a matter of time before it figured out _how_ to get to them.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave those civilians alone!”

_Squish!_

A grunt and the air wooshed when the zombie swung a fist.

“I said it nicely. I hate to punish you, but you did not heed my advice!”

_Crack!_

And the zombie fell off the side of the truck, a hatchet stuck between its eyes, all limbs spazzing until all fell quiet again. A boot stomped on its forehead and a dainty hand wrapped itself around the hatchet handle, yanking it out with a sick pop. The owner sighed something that sounded like “clean this later…”

A face appeared when the owner bent over, pale blue eyes examined the people beneath the truck. Kokichi hated how perfect she looked with her blonde hair and pearly whites, it’s like she bred for perfection. Everything screamed fake.

No one should look that fabulous while soaking wet and caked in zombie blood.

She saved their lives, he shouldn’t be picky about his savior. But like hell he would be because he’s Kokichi.

“Survival Mode Barbie,” he muttered under his breath. “Zombie Apocalypse Edition.”

“Limited time only,” the girl latched onto him added. She snickered like it’s the funniest thing ever.

Right. He forgot his situation.

“Hello! Sorry about that. Do come out.” Her cheekbones pushed up in a smile, her eyes almost disappearing in the large, gorgeous smile.

“No, I’m fine here,” lied Kokichi, refusing to trust this stranger. Then he finally caught a whiff of the girl clutching onto him. She smelt like mud and meat. He shoved her off. “Actually, scratch that. If it gets me away from Wilbur the pig, I’d rather be out there with you, Barbie.”

Kokichi rolled out from under the truck with the girl and Pancake close behind. She grabbed the tail of his shirt, and Kokichi bit his tongue to hold back an insult. He tapped his machete on the pavement and glared at the babbling, big boobed—he couldn’t get over how unnaturally large she was—girl.

“P-Pig?!” Her knees rubbed together, making everyone uncomfortable. Kokichi glared harder but she wasn’t deterred. “I’ll have you know that if Charlotte was spinning a web behind me, it’d say—“

“No one cares.” Kokichi turned to the other blonde… blue eyed girl? Damn, blondes around these parts weren’t very diverse, huh? “I didn’t need your rescue.”

“Oh…” she clasped her hands together, the hatchet flinging blood over her shoulder, with a smile despite her disappointed tone. “Well, I am still glad to find more survivors to travel with! My name is Sonia…” she paused to wipe the blood the rain missed missed off her hand onto her black skirt. “Nevermind.”

“Nevermind?” Kokichi perked an eyebrow. He refused to shake her hand. “So what is it then?”

“Pardon?”

“I don’t like liars, you know. If you’re gonna lie that your name is Sonia you shouldn’t have said nevermind so quickly. I have a superpower that detects liars!” He tapped the hilt of the machete with his thumb as “Sonia” tried to convince him of her name. “I don’t have time for this. Have you seen a kid that looks emo with a black hoodie on? Carries a depressed aura everywhere he goes? You can’t miss him.”

“There’s two of you?!” The other boob—er, blonde— grasped his arm. Pancake growled. “What the fuck. I’ll reward you both, promise. Miu Iruma always keeps her promises!”

“Oh! Is he the one carrying the scooter?”

Kokichi snorted. “Yeah, that loser.”

“My travel partner saw him and went after him. He was chasing a lady with all white hair.”

“Angie!” Miu exclaimed. “She ran away from me when that guerrilla appeared.”

“The only monkey that’s here is you.” Kokichi nodded toward Miu.

“Not gorilla.” Sonia chuckled with a hand over her mouth. “ _Guerrilla._ ”

“The fuck—“ Kokichi swallowed his reply and glanced down at the dead zombie. Guerrilla, both girls openly used the term.

“Are you stupid? Do you not tune into the military broadcast?” Miu perked an eyebrow. “There’s a public broadcast that—“

Kokichi placed his hand over her mouth again and gave a light squeeze. She made a disgusting sound into it and didn’t fight him. His skin crawled but if he released, she’d pick up where she left off.

“You’re loud as hell. You’ll get us killed.” Kokichi looked toward Sonia. “Which way did they go?” Sonia pointed with her hatchet. Kokichi tapped Pancake’s head. “Go boy.”

Pancake ran into the darkness, his dark fur blending him into the surroundings. Kokichi felt a small ping in his heart, watching Pancake fun head first into danger like that at a simple command. He’s scouting, a zombie won’t catch him. He’s fine fine fine—

“Stronger” ended. Only four or five minutes passed, and Kokichi felt spent, he really needed another one of his songs to come into rotation to pump him back up and ease his worries over Pancake. Just Pancake. The playlist shuffled to “If I Were A Boy” by Beyoncé, causing Kokichi to clench his teeth and lose energy. _Dammit Kaito, his songs sucked._

Pancake barked once. Twice. The third bark was cut off.

“I’ll kill him myself if my dog dies,” announced Kokichi, expecting these strangers to keep him accountable.

Kokichi ran toward the sound, careful with each step on the wet pavement. It’s slick, it’ll be easy to slip if he’s not paying attention. He’s reminded he’s pissed at Shuichi for this, but the girls followed him into the storm. Backup? Maybe. Meat shields? Maybe.

He’s still going to give Shuichi a piece of his mind.

“Yoooohoooo, over here!”

Kokichi thought he was insane for wearing such a thick, hot hoodie in April, but his hoodie saved his ass multiple times from zombie bites. However, “Angie” gave a new face to the word, adding “fucking” to it. Fucking insane.

She wore only a white bikini and a yellow cardigan as coverage. From on top a van—which Kokichi could not figure out how she climbed for the life of him—a tan hand waved at a child below. The child cocked its head to the side as Angie shouted more.

“Ooooh, is it finally my time, hm?” Angie knelt down and patted the van. The child tilted her head farther. “Come up here and get me then! I would not be here if Atua did not think it’s exactly where I should be!”

Kokichi picked up that that kid was not normal, in fact, he’d bet five dollars and a piece of his bubblegum that the child was a zombie. The pigtails and pink bow didn’t fool him. He tried to ignore the way it hunched over, long nails dragging on the pavement when it moved.

Shuichi and Pancake were nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” muttered Kokichi.

He smelt Miu before he heard her.

“Fuckin’ Atua shit again?” Miu placed an unnecessary hand on his shoulder. He knocked it off. She placed it back. “She picked up saying shit when we watched my step mom turn.”

“Back up!” Kokichi hissed, shoving her back. He tugged on her pink hoodie, careful to avoid the green… up close it didn’t look like foam anymore but more like… Kokichi wanted to vomit at the meat smell. “What is that shit?”

“Zombie bar—“

“Yep, yep, yep. That’s what I thought.”

“If Angie is not careful,” said Sonia, catching up to them, “that howler will—“

The child shrieked, piercing through the sounds nature, piercing through the faint sound of Beyoncé.

“We must find a new location if we want to live,” warned Sonia.

“My sister is up there!” Miu retaliated.

“Fuck Angie, you said Saihara was with her,” said Kokichi. He added to help sway Sonia, “Isn’t your ‘travel partner’ supposed to be around here? Or did a zombie get ‘em? Is that why you’re sticking with us?”

“Yes, yes! Bring more,” cackled Angie. She clasped her hands together. “That will bring my savior—“

A man dashed out of a truck, had to be in his early twenties. Miu nor Sonia reacted, so he’s a complete and utter stranger. He snuck behind the howler, grasping a dagger in a reverse grip. The zombie continued to scream as it turned around to face him, innocent eyes staring back at him. Kokichi wondered if those eyes were just as adorable up close or if it appeared as soulless and hungry as the rest.

The man hesitated. Rookie mistake, never trust children. The howler launched on his front, legs wrapping around his waist. Yellowed claws gripped his chest, beads of blood rolling down onto pale hands. He was oddly silent through the ordeal, but he pushed and pushed… and pushed. Kokichi believed the man fucked himself through hesitation.

Kokichi chose not to hesitate.

One moment, Kokichi stood with the girls. The next, he’s behind the howler, slashing his blade across the back of a child. If this happened weeks ago, morality would have sunk in, making him regret mutilating a little girl like this. He’s older, wiser. This wasn’t a child. He wasn’t naive.

It released the man and both fell limp to the ground. Kokichi tilted his head, rain cascading from his hood all over the man’s body. He died so fast, so easy. But… hm. Kokichi chewed his bottom lip since he so stupidly left his gum in the car.

Cloudless eyes shot open, and Kokichi stabbed his machete into its chest. It fell still once more.

“Hello!”

Kokichi jumped with a start, instincts forcing him to point his machete at Angie. She sat on the edge of the van with her legs dangling.

“Where’s—“ Kokichi attempted to say.

“I do not think you’re the one I’m looking for.” If she wasn’t fucking insane and if Kokichi was stupid, he might fall for that sweet smile. “I shall wait then. Do you wish to join Angie?”

“No, I…”

Zombies crawled, walked, jumped from different places. In a blink of an eye, Kokichi felt surrounded, trapped, found no way of escape. He’ll haunt Shuichi from hell for this.

“Oops, better make your choice.” Angie bounced her head from left to right, kicking her legs in time. “Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. Need help up?”

Kokichi slashed at the first droid that passed by. That’s his fourth kill in one night. His stomach churned.

“I like this plan better. You come down—“ Kokichi stabbed another. Five. “—you help ward these off. I return you to your step sister or whatever the fuck she is—“ slice. Six. His arm muscles begged for rest. “—and you leave me alone. I have other things to do! I’m a busy boy!”

“Angie has no weapon! I will just watch from here, thanks.”

Kokichi couldn’t find it within himself to be surprised. Teenagers these days think that someone will bail them out of everything. He lived too long defending himself and his brother to let anyone rescue him anymore.

Heat spread across his back in the form of Sonia Nevermind. She smiled at him over her shoulder, fresh blood washing away in the rain off her face. Kokichi nodded at their silent alliance. Anymore talking from here, and their safety would be dwindle from the already minuscule margin.

Sonia moved first. Her hatchet swung around, cutting into the neck of a droid. In the same motion, her leg cut through the air kicked another in the chest. It staggered back far enough for her to find the time to remove her hatchet. She sliced across its stomach and stepped back as blood and organs poured out. The zombie crumpled.

Holy shit. Sonia’s badass.

Kokichi refused to be shown up by her, so he diagonally slashed through two different zombies at once, finding pleasure in how easily they surrendered and toppled over. Two for one special. He kicked knees of another and crushed its throat with his foot.

Both stood back to back again.

“You’re ruthless. Where’d you learn to fight?” Kokichi asked as each mapped their next course of action. Angie wasn’t kidding, zombies spawned at the sound of the howler.

“My dad. You?”

“My dad.”

Sonia smiled. “We have a lot in common, little one.”

“Don’t bet on it, princess.”

Kokichi meant it as a joke, but Sonia’s face drooped into a frown. He wanted to wipe that face away and permanently erase it.

Miu entered the fray with a spiked baseball bat. He couldn’t explain where the hell she found that, but he’s not going to question his luck. She smashed the skull of a zombie in her path, blood spraying through the air during her follow through. Miu had a mean swing, she put boys on his baseball team to shame, possibly give Leon a run for his money just like Kokichi had.

Man, fuck Leon. That’s one face he never wants to see again. He wondered if Leon would react the same way if Miu took Kokichi’s spot. Nah, he’d just seduce her until she complied like all the girls in school. He’s the worst.

Kokichi blinked and Miu was to his left, Sonia on his right. Around them, zombies stepped closer and closer, encasing them in a small pod of space if they didn’t move soon.

 _Lead,_ his father whispered in his ear.

Forged through survival, forged through his anger with Shuichi Saihara, he made an alliance. They needed to work together if they were to make it, and Kokichi mapped out their path.

“Miu, there are three to your left. Got ‘em?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Sonia, two at about—“

“I see them! I will do my best.”

Three in front of him. “And they’re mine.”

“Yay, I love teamwork!” Angie clapped.

Kokichi ignored the stupidity she spat. “Consider this your audition to my group. Ready, go!”

Miu dunked under the arm of a droid and used the butt of the bat to stagger it back. She kicked at the knees, a copying the move she observed from Kokichi—damn, quick learner—and stomping down on the head. The crack sent chills down everyone’s spines, a sound still nasty and gross and something kids so young should never have to hear.

“That’s my sister, hooray!” Angie clapped and swung her legs.

If Kokichi had a say, which he will, Angie’s gone, kicked to the curb.

Sonia danced around swift fingers, zombies only grazing her outfit, not lingering enough for those fingers to tug her close. She kept her back to the van, the only place she knew a zombie wouldn’t sneak up behind her. This dance continued until the zombies bumped into each other, and Sonia struck both across the face with her hatchet.

Kokichi dragged his machete across the road again like he had earlier, back when he could actually hear the music in the background. _Screeeee—_

One slash. Drop. Two. Drop. One stab and it fell still like the other two. Ignoring his screaming muscles, this was too easy. Rain rolled down his back not sweat, he swears!

Directly in front of them, a tall, fat zombie waddled slowly into view. It had a similar smell to Miu, and Kokichi wanted nothing more than take his frustration out on it.

“I got barf bag.” Kokichi glanced at the girls before smirking.

“Hey, man—“ Miu started, tugging on his sleeve. Kokichi shoved her off.

“Oh, oh! He wants to fight a chuck.” Angie smiled. “Maybe you are the one Atua said I’d find!”

“Look, buddy. Let’s make this easy, okay?” Kokichi smirked with a shrug. “You turn around now or I… I…”

He swallowed his reply. Those eyes… its eyes didn’t follow the machete like all the others had. It… it stared _right at him_. Kokichi kept walking toward it anyways because he could take it. He knew he could, it’s slow and weak, he could tell. It totally was stupid like all the others, he’d have no problem.

Kokichi saw his reflection in its eyes. His courage fled.

“Shit shit shit shit—“

Kokichi dodged a swinging arm and tucked himself into a somersault to avoid the other hand. It could fucking see. This zombie _saw_ him. He switched to survival mode, negating all possible emotion that could hinder him, kill him even.

When he rolled on his bottom, he slashed the machete around behind him, hoping to catch anything. The familiar slice of skin—ew—greeted his ear, but he swung too hard and nothing caught, knocking himself on his side during the follow through.

The zombie leaned down as if to mock his position. Green ooze dribbled from its chin, the mouth opening and shutting with chattering teeth. Head cocked to the side, it reached a hand toward his face as if to caress it. Kokichi knew better.

He stared up into the eyes of the zombie, his blank expression staring back at him. Even in this moment, Kokichi couldn’t be honest and admit that death fucking terrified him, his face showed apathy.

Kokichi closed his eyes, ready for all the pain and for it all to end in a hurry.

He was going to die with no one that cared to call him, check if he’s okay. Shuichi left him in favor of chasing this idiot on a van. He didn’t know if Himiko was scared without him, if her heart even beat against her tiny chest anymore.

Okay, these final thoughts were beginning to depress him and drag out a bit too long. Kokichi allowed himself a peek at the zombie to find it farther away.

“What—“

It growled, reaching over its shoulder to snatch whatever was on its back. Pancake growled back and bit into its shoulder blade. The zombie cried out and allowed itself to fall backwards. The dog released it, dodging away to avoid the crush of weight.

Holy shit. Pancake.

On shaking arms, Kokichi pushed himself up on his ass. “Pancake, c’mere boy.” Pancake stayed in his position, snarling at the zombie. “Pancake! Come!”

He glanced around for his teammates. Sonia was caught up in a brawl. Miu was attempting to coax Angie down. Kokichi was alone.

It’s back on its round feet, swinging a slow fist at the dog.

“Pancake!”

The dog finally moved, the fist barely missing his tail. Pancake whimpered as he examined Kokichi. He patted the dog’s head.

“Yeah, yeah… We’re in a bit of a pickle.”

That’s when Shuichi Saihara made his entrance from the shadows. Blood covered the right side of his face, a quick glance over confirmed that it’s not his blood, there’s no cut. His hair was slicked back out of his face, shimmering and extra dark in the rain. For some reason, Shuichi abandoned his hoodie and only sported his ugly tan undershirt.

“Back up!” Shuichi exclaimed.

He swung his scooter into the stomach, it bounced off like rubber, tremors rocking his body. Shuichi threw the scooter down with abandon, pulling out a weapon tucked between his waistband and his back. Fuck, Shuichi brought the _gun_.

“I said. Back. The fuck. Up.”

His stance was great, legs slightly spread, elbows bent, both eyes opened and staring through the sight. The signs that his uncle properly trained him to shoot. He even said something kinda cool.

Then his arms started to shake as the zombie moved toward him. Shuichi didn’t lower his guard, but he made no effort to shoot. He didn’t have a killing bone in his body. After all this time...

The zombie reared back a fist.

“Saihara—“

Shuichi would be knocked out.

“I-I kn-know!”

He’s too weak to defend Shuichi if that happened.

“I-I…”

Shuichi’s eyes widened and his guard lowered slightly.

Kokichi shoved Shuichi out of the way.

He stared up at the reddening sky. Unsure of how he got there… but he also didn’t care to find out yet he needed to in order to assess himself. Ugh, fuck it. A dull ache on the back of his head suggested that he smacked it on the pavement. A similar pain on the right side of his jaw proved that the zombie punched him there. His eyes rolled up to the side mirror of the car he laid next to, watching the blood drip in a dragging, lazy tempo. Ah, so he smacked his head on the mirror and probably has a nasty cut.

Nice. That’ll be a story to tell the kids one day.

Wow, he’s really out of it.

Kokichi tried to sit up but his head spun, black dots covered his vision. He laid back down and shut the world out by closing his eyelids. This wasn’t so bad, right? He’d fall asleep and it’ll all be over—

Liquid poured over him, grossly warm and squishy between his fingers. It’s all over him. His legs, arms, chest, even his feet and face. And god, it smelt like Miu.

“Kokichi! Don’t open your eyes or talk! You don’t want that inside you,” Kokichi barely heard Shuichi over the roaring in his ears.

 _No shit, Shulock_ , he wanted to say. He’s dazed, not stupid.

But with his eyes shut came the tiredness, his body’s demand for rest after so much fighting, after hitting his head. He drifted in and out of consciousness, he fought to stay awake to ensure his survival but lost to the inevitable quiet and black. Kokichi surrendered for now.

Last he heard was the sound of a gunshot and quickly whispered, “you’re going to be okay.”

 

Kokichi didn’t expect to wake up. No way he made it out of there alive. Pinned against a car, blinded by the putrid _stomach acid_ all over his skin, and the last words he’d hear were uttered by Shuichi.

“You’re going to be okay.”

Famous last words.

He’d come to terms with how he’d die. No regrets saving Shuichi, but that boy didn’t have a killing bone in his body for zombies. He pretended they’re actual humans (what if they were?) and treated them as such. Shuichi never aimed for fatal spots, and when he did, he only hit hard enough to stagger it back enough so he could step away.

On top of that, Shuichi liked to believe he’s Superman, running head first into danger if it meant saving one life. If Kokichi protested, Shuichi pulled out his moral high ground shit that he picked up from his short stint with Kaede, growing more and more obnoxious by the second and Kokichi couldn’t argue it. There’s no winning that conversation.

Kokichi realized he’d die rescuing Shuichi one day. It was inevitable. And that was that.

Without greeting the world with his presence by announcing he’s awake or opening his eyes, Kokichi assessed where he was through his other senses.

A fire crackled nearby, hushed voices talked around it. He recognized Sonia, the others too low for recognition. So he’s still with the group, that’s a good sign. Unless that meant that… Kokichi swallowed that thought before it festered into worry.

His left hand trailed across a branch—no, a root— of tree. Okay, he’s in the woods. Someone decided to take them off the interstate, which was probably wise after that clusterfuck.

His fingers on his right hand curled around the sleeves of his hoodie. It’s softer, smoother to the touch than his skeleton hoodie, which was brittle and itchy, and significantly warmer on the inside than his own. The skeleton hoodie was already a size too big, this jacket had to be at least two sizes bigger than what Kokichi should wear. Oddly enough, he liked how encased he felt inside, like a caterpillar inside of a cocoon. After a nice long whiff, there’s a faint scent of pumpkin, a fall type of scent that only one person wore.

Not to mention he’s in completely different jeans that he’d definitely need a belt for.

_He’s in Shuichi’s clothes._

A long long long long time ago, this would’ve been super embarrassing. Now, it’s only mildly. Before he let that emotion show, he recalled his state of condition before he passed out. Of course, that zombie ruined his poor, defenseless skeleton hoodie. Shuichi was being nice. Nice? Shuichi changed his clothes without permission! Kokichi felt violated and wanted to rip off the jacket.

_But damn, it’s warm and soft._

He’ll find another reason to be mad at Shuichi. Not like that would be hard. Wait.

Right, he ran off into the rain in the middle of the night. He’s fucking pissed at Shuichi Saihara.

Kokichi moved a blind hand forward and met fur. He stared through slits at Pancake, who slept soundly as if nothing was wrong in the world. How did he manage to find the world’s most loyal dog?

“Hey…” Kokichi said low in his chest so the others around the fire wouldn’t hear. When the dog turned his head toward him, Kokichi patted him between the ears. “There, there… Pancake is a good boy.”

Pancake leaned into the touch, a tongue lolling out as he panted. Seriously, this dog’s an angel. Jumped on a zombie to protect Kokichi. Either Pancake loved him or really wanted more Slim Jims. What would you do for a Klondike bar? More like… what would you do for a Slim Jim?

Drowsy Kokichi makes terrible jokes.

Kokichi continued to pet his dog and scanned the party around the fire. His eyes landed on Sonia first, he honestly couldn’t contain the slight tug on the corners of his lips. She’s a real badass, he’s glad she stuck around. Next to her, a dark, tan guy he didn’t recognize. He seemed friendly with Sonia, so Kokichi pieced together that he must be her travel partner she mentioned before. A friend of Sonia’s was a friend of Kokichi’s.

Next, Angie and Miu chatted away. Miu seemed… interesting. She fought well, that’s for sure, but her personality was similar to that of a cereal box. Flashy on the outside but similar to everything else in the store on the inside. Except he hated the cereal.

Angie, on the other hand, well… she’s a fucking lunatic. From what he gathered through bits and pieces, _all_ of them were put in danger because she dashed out into the night because of something a dude told her. If he’s real. Maybe Atua’s that tan guy.

Then he lingered on Shuichi. He garnered a new hoodie, a navy blue color that suited him better. Shuichi cleaned up during the time Kokichi slept, all the blood and dirt washed away.

Kokichi softly smiled, anger seeping away momentarily. They managed to save three—four, Kokichi supposed, since this mystery dude popped up—people together. After it all, Kokichi’s alive. _Shuichi’s_ alive. He could be mad later.

Instead of talking to the others, Shuichi sat with a hand clutched to his chest, red dusting his cheeks as he stared at…

Pancake’s a pretty cute dog, but damn Shuichi.

Shuichi all but teleported next to him, placing the back of his hand on Kokichi’s forehead. He looked everywhere but his eyes. Up close, Kokichi noticed he’s still in that ugly tan shirt under his new jacket.

“So—“

Kokichi snatched his wrist and yanked Shuichi down into a hug. He squeezed tight like Shuichi would melt if he let go, never to be seen again. Shuichi hesitated and eventually returned the embrace, fingers curling into the jacket. The taller boy sighed and relaxed, and Kokichi buried his face into the crook of his shoulder, indulging in what felt safe before he fully remembered their constant danger.

“H-Hey there…” Shuichi stammered. “I’m—uh, well—I’m glad you’re finally up. I was… I was worried.”

Oh yeah, he’s mad. So Kokichi shoved him off and punched the other’s shoulder. “Hmmm, do I need to remind you _why_ I’m injured? You had front row seats, but that was pretty traumatizing for you. You got punched, thrown up on… oh wait. That’s me.”

“I… I deserve that.” Shuichi rubbed his arm. His hands fell awkwardly in his lap, his gaze along with it. “I—I should’ve shot the first time when the shot was clear. My incompetence put you at risk and… and I’m sorry for that.”

“Complete and utter incompetence! Don’t sugar coat it!”

When Shuichi shrunk in on himself and tears built up, Kokichi truly examined Shuichi’s face. Dark bags hung under his eyes, swollen and dark as if he’s cried a lot and hasn’t slept. Red veins were prominent around his irises. His skin was tight on his cheekbones, he hadn’t been eating.

Shuichi tore himself up over this. He actually cared about what happened. Maybe, just maybe Shuichi didn’t hate him as much as he thought.

_Even though he deserved it if he did._

“—and I thought I was doing the right thing! I can’t let people go like that, and I know you’re right. I see that now. I can’t run after anyone without talking it through with you, and I did the exact opposite! I am the worst person ever and I—“

Kokichi didn’t realize Shuichi was rambling. So he spoke calm and slow.

“We’ll work on it.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave me behind and—“ Shuichi’s eyes widened when he processed those words. “H-Huh? What did you say?”

“I said…” Kokichi took a deep breath. “I said we’ll work on it.”

Shuichi finally met his eyes, wiping at his own and giving Kokichi the smallest of smiles. “O-Okay.”

“Don’t look too much into that,” Kokichi added. He examined his nails. “I’d just rather have you than those bozos around the fire.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” Shuichi smile turned into a toothy grin. Kokichi wanted it to grow but stop at the same time. “I… Uh, we have one can of food left. Let me make it! You haven’t eaten in two days.”

_Two days?!_

“Then get to it. I’m starving.” Kokichi crossed his arms. “I’ve earned a bit of pampering.”

Shuichi began to walk away but Kokichi caught his wrist. “Y-Yeah?”

“Carry me.” Kokichi smirked.

“Wh-What—“

“Saihara,” Kokichi ignored the downcast look Shuichi made at the use of last name, “put me in pants way too big! I might trip and hit my head again or the pants might fall down to my ankles. Saihara’s pretty inconsiderate for not giving me belt!”

He’s being an ass, he knows it, but he can’t help it. The words came out before his brain filtered it, the first thing he thought of so he didn’t have to admit that he’s probably too tired still to properly walk and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the new people, he’d rather embarrass Shuichi. Why their opinions of him suddenly mattered, he didn’t know. He chalked it up to momentary case of short man syndrome. No, Napoleon complex. Yeah, that sounded cooler.

It’s a lame excuse to be carried, but Shuichi’s eyes raked over him in consideration before he released a long, drawn out sigh. Kokichi stared at Pancake to avoid that spotlight gaze. Stupid stupid stupid. Shuichi saw right through him and now Kokichi looked like a moron and—

And he’s up in the air. Thank god he could control his face because Shuichi would’ve had premiere spots to a multitude of expressions otherwise. Both glanced anywhere but each other’s faces, but Kokichi made sure to watch through his peripherals as a light pink tint heated up the other’s ears.

“You’re strong!” Kokichi admitted. Who knew Shuichi could pick him up so easily!

“Please don’t mock me… I’ll drop you.”

“I mean it!”

“That's a lie. You only weigh about a hundred pounds.”

Kokichi narrowed his eyes even though he was gazing at the crackling fire, deciding to drop the compliment.

When Shuichi set him down next to Sonia, Kokichi crossed his legs and petted Pancake absentmindedly. Shuichi sat directly across from him, searching for a can through his Naruto backpack. Ah, so he went back for it, and a small part of Kokichi hoped Shuichi reclaimed his things as well… or at least the photo album.

...Shuichi probably didn’t know he had that so it’s not fair to expect him to retrieve it. Kokichi didn’t have the energy to be mad at himself, so he mentally redirected at Shuichi.

Shuichi popped the ravioli can open and held it near (but not directly over it) the fire as if to warm it up. With his free hand he pulled out a belt and tossed it to Kokichi.

“So who the hell is this guy?” Kokichi fiddled with the belt, nodding a head toward Sonia’s friend. “The fuck did I miss?”

The boy in question glared, pointed a finger, and spoke rapid fire Spanish.

“No hablo español, tonto.” Kokichi rolled his eyes.

“And he doesn’t speak your language.” Sonia played with the lace on her skirt. “Miguel traveled here with me for a short vacation… it seems we’ll be extending our stay until further notice.”

Kokichi wanted to feel bad but found himself snorting. “So you’re tell me that Miggy here doesn’t understand a word we’re saying?” Miggy’s eyebrows furrowed. Case and point. “Wow. I smell a meat shield.”

Everyone froze to stare at him.

“K-Kokichi!” Shuichi’s mouth hung open before he found words again. He scanned everyone’s reactions. “He’s kidding. He doesn’t mean it—“

“Don’t lie, Saihara.”

“He enjoys being an ass. Ignore that side of him and he’s tolerable.”

 _Tolerable._ If Kokichi was trying to be friends with Shuichi again—nope, totally wasn’t—those words would sting.

“I think you more than tolerate him, Shuichi.” Angie wagged a finger. “No one carries someone they hate on their back while riding a scooter.”

“Awwww,” whined Kokichi. “I miss all the good stuff! Hey, hey… can we reenact later?”

“What?! No!” Shuichi shoved the warmed can into Kokichi’s hands.

“C’mon, I have a concussion. You’re not gonna make me walk, are you?”

“Just shut up and drink your ravioli.”

Shuichi took his seat back across the fire and grumbled as he waited for Kokichi to eat. What a mother hen. Kokichi did as instructed, taking in as much as possible, as fast as he could.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Miu chanted.

Sonia slapped his shoulder with the back of her hand. Kokichi quit with only a third of the can left. He wiped the excess sauce off his lip.

“I advise you to think of others when you decide your actions.” Oh, she’s scolding him. “Some of us have not eaten in days to secure that you would have something when you woke up.”

“What? What idiot would do that?” Kokichi joked.

Shuichi’s shoulders slumped as he poked the fire with a stick. Embers drifted into the air and disappeared as if they never existed to begin with, their life so short and meaningless. Kokichi envied the embers, wanting to disappear in the moment.

“Jeez, Saihara. Why would you waste your meal on someone like me?” Kokichi meant it as a tease but it came out sincere. Fuck him sideways. He shook his head to rid himself of whatever caused him to show insecurity and changed the topic. “Someone catch me up. Two days?”

“Sleeping Beauty wants to know what happened to her kingdom while she slept,” Miu cackled.

“In my country, that fairytale is a bit different. She wasn’t royal—“

“A divine wind blew on the evening of the attack indeed,” Angie cut in. She smiled and watched Shuichi, which made Kokichi mildly uncomfortable. The way she eyed him… like he was the center of her universe. Then she gave Kokichi the same glance over, and he felt uncomfortable in his skin. He restrained himself from showing weakness and flipping his hoodie up. “Atua said that Angie should go to that spot and a savior would find her! So I watched. Kokichi showed great initiative and fighting skills. He’s quite impressive. Shuichi showed a gentle kindness in his heart with the way he refused to kill until his partner’s life was in danger. I wonder which one Atua sent to me.”

“That’s her way of saying she fucked up,” Miu corrected. “Kokichi, after that chuck spat up on you, Shuichi blew its brains out. You’re lucky that barf didn’t get in that nasty cut of yours. Supposedly it turns you if it gets in your system.”

Kokichi touched his forehead, feeling the cut under his hair already scabbing over. That’s going to leave a nasty scar.

“Miguel carried you into the woods and cleaned you up to the best of his ability until Shuichi returned,” added Sonia.

“I… I, uh, went back for our stuff.” Shuichi poked the fire again. The embers lit his face up in an orange heat, reflecting sparkles in his irises. Kokichi chalked the heat on his cheeks up to sitting too close to the fire, so he scooted back. “There was a zombie in the front seat so… I couldn’t retrieve your phone, but I got our backpacks.”

Shuichi pointed his stick toward the backpack on Miggy’s back.

Oh.

_Oh._

He’s felt like an ass for awhile but now he felt like shit. Shuichi risked himself for that.

“You couldn’t get my phone?” He found himself saying anyway. “Then what’s the point. Now I have no chance of calling my family.”

Shuichi flinched but anger flashed across his face. “What family, Kokichi? You don’t give a damn about them, and don’t pretend they give a shit for you either.”

Kokichi curled his fingers tightly into Pancake’s fur and around the ravioli can.

“I went back by myself because I know you keep things in there that are personal. I was trying to help you. I _killed_ someone to save you.”

“A zombie. That’s not a person!”

“They are to me! Have you ever taken how I feel into consideration?”

“Your ‘feelings’ got us in trouble to begin with!”

“Oh, and yours didn’t?! Stop lying to yourself for once and just admit that you fucked me over.”

It occurred to Kokichi that maybe Shuichi wasn’t talking about the zombie incident anymore. “Fuck you, Saihara. You lied too. I told the one person that mattered the truth, and you couldn’t accept your own. Stop victimizing yourself and own up to your mistakes. I’ve made peace with mine.”

Shuichi threw the stick on the ground and stormed off into the woods. Before he disappeared into the shadows, he clenched his fists and called over his shoulder, “Yeah, well… I never told a lie that made everyone hate you. Can you say the same?”

Then he was gone, and with him he took a piece of Kokichi. The piece of him that was beginning to heal since this apocalypse began, something that felt empty for over two years.

Sonia sighed. “I will find him. He just needs to cool off.” So she walked after him, her hatchet in hand in case she needed it.

“If he’s going to be a shithead, don’t bother bringing him back,” Kokichi mumbled to no one in particular.

Miggy said something in Spanish. Kokichi rolled his eyes.

“Wow, that was fun.” Miu snorted. When no one laughed with her, she fiddled with a piece of hair. “I-I don’t know what you two are fighting about but… he really tried, ya know? He’s been carrying you everywhere we’ve gone. Won’t let anyone else have a turn because it’s ‘his fault and he’s going to make it right.’”

“He’s self-destructive. He only felt guilty until he saw I’m fine.”

“He nursed you the best he could,” Miu continued anyways. She really wanted to twist that dagger in that missing piece. “There were short spurts that you woke up, long enough for him to feed you water. Then you’d pass out again.”

“Shut up, Miu,” warned Kokichi.

“He even agreed to go to a safe zone for you. He was scared. We’ve been backtracking on the interstate to get you there.”

“Atua thinks we all deserve rest anyways.” Angie clasped her hands together. “Says something great lies there.”

“Atua’s been a great help so far! I’m so happy he gave us more instructions,” said Kokichi.

“Mhmm, mhmm! You will make a great follower. Maybe you’ll become one of his chosen one day.”

That struck a wrong chord in Kokichi. However, Miu nor Miggy batted an eye.

“How far are we from this safe zone?” Kokichi changed the topic.

He didn’t want to go to this safe zone. Kokichi didn’t trust people. Back when Shuichi and Kaito forced him to watch The Walking Dead, Kokichi saw how untrustworthy people could be in the zombie apocalypse. A safe zone promised false hope until someone fucked them over. And Kokichi didn’t trust the new people around the fire except for maybe Sonia. Shuichi thought the same thing, they even talked it over during their travels on the interstate.

They wanted nothing more than a small group, if even that.

_He wanted to get you help, idiot._

Or he wanted to see if Kaede or Kaito ended up there. Shuichi’s number one priority will forever be his friends.

“At this rate…” Miu trailed off.

“About three days. We need more food if we are to make it,” Angie hopped in. “There’s a store my sister and I visited nearby that still had lots of food!”

“We could raid it,” Kokichi thought out loud. “Grab just enough to make it there then eat like kings once we’re there.”

He wouldn’t stay in the safe zone, but he was smart enough to take a free meal and a nice bed for a night.

“I like the sound of that logic.” Miu playfully pushed him with her elbow.

“Until then…” Kokichi placed the can where Shuichi sat, hoping he’d understand the peace offering. “A falta de pan, buenas son tortas.”

Miggy snorted with an eye roll. Kokichi smirked.

“If any of you touch that, I’ll kill you.” Kokichi laid down and snuggled up to his dog. “Property of Saihara, got it?”

“Aw, how precious!” Angie leaned in to check on how much Kokichi left him. “Can’t you smell it in the air? Atua has blessed you two with—“

“No, that’s just Miu’s farts. Eat like pig, fart like a pig.”

“P-Pig?!” Miu blushed and played with her hair. “I-Is that y-your pet name for m-me?”

“Ew, gross. We’ll never get close enough where I give you a pet name.”

“You’re stuck with me ‘til we die! I owe you!”

Greaaaaat. Kokichi shut his eyes. “I’m tired of hearing your nasty voice, I’m tired of hearing about Atua, and… I’m just tired. I’ll dream of a plan tonight.”

 

Their band of hooligans ended up outside of the grocery store, crouched behind some bushes and shoulders touching as they waited for someone to give instruction. They made it this far without much thought.

It’s a tiny Walmart with an even smaller gas station. A few gas pumps laid on the pavement, abandoned by whoever last took gas. The building appeared rather unscathed, so maybe the girls weren’t lying about it being untouched by survivors.

“So… you said there’s no zombies inside?” Shuichi broke the silence.

“Oh no, no! Angie can confirm that.” She placed a hand on Shuichi’s shoulder. Kokichi wanted to knock it off. “No zombies… as of five days ago.”

Miggy grunted and whispered to Sonia. She nodded and said, “that’s not exactly reassuring us that this is safe.”

Miu clapped Miggy’s shoulder. “You’re a bit uptight, my friend. Maybe I’ll show you how to release stress later if you do well today.”

“Oh, meditation?!” Sonia’s eyes lit up. “I would love to participate in the meditation.”

“Hey, focus back up here!” Kokichi reigned everyone’s attention. “Here’s the plan: we break up into teams of two. One group goes for food, one goes for medical supplies, and the other goes for supplies like extra clothes, blankets, the works.”

“I call Miggy!” Miu hooked her arm into his. Miggy looked appalled. “We’ll go for the supplies.”

“Um… I don’t think…” Sonia tried to counter. “Kokichi?”

“If it keeps her from jumping my bones, Miggy can keep her.”

“I… fine.” Sonia perked up. “If it makes us grow closer as a posse, then I am all for it!”

“Posse?” Shuichi echoed.

“Is that not what you call a pack of humans here? My online friend used to tell me all about his posse!” Sonia’s eyes glazed over for a moment as she recalled her friend. “He would call us a survival posse. I… I do hope he’s okay wherever he’s at.”

“Survival Posse…” Angie tested the name. “Atua gives us his good graces on the name!”

“Pfft, what does Atua know?” Kokichi teased.

“Oh, if Atua likes it then it must be fate!” Sonia agreed.

Kokichi and Shuichi looked at each other confused. How did they end up with such strange people? Realization crossed Shuichi’s face as if he remembered their argument, his eyebrows furrowed, and he turned his attention back to the store. Kokichi awkwardly turned back forward as well.

“Sure, Survival Posse, whatever,” said Kokichi. “I’ll go for the food with Saihara—“

“I’m going with Sonia,” Shuichi denied.

“Let’s try that again. I said—“

“I heard you, and I said I’m going with Sonia.” His knuckles turned stark white as he squeezed the scooter. Kokichi could see the gun in one of his backpack pockets, so he didn’t understand why he bothered with the scooter anymore. Stupid Shuichi probably was still too scared to kill after everything. “I need a break from you.”

“Two days not enough?” Kokichi shoved the hurt down.

“Two years wasn’t enough. Please just… let me go with Sonia.”

He’s asking permission now. Maybe he could see the hurt on his face or hear it in his voice. Kokichi revealed too much and Shuichi knew. He can’t tell if they’re becoming friends or not, but he leaned toward not. Either not or it’s slow progress.

_Let Shuichi go._

“Fine.” Kokichi petted Pancake, keeping his focus there instead of Shuichi. His face was untrustworthy.

“F-Fine?”

“Fine, whatever. Saihara goes with Sonia for medical supplies.”

Shuichi released his tight hold on the scooter. “Thank you. When you go for food, don’t forget dog food for Pancake.”

“Dog food? Pancake deserves better than peasant food!” Kokichi clutched Pancake close. The dog wiggled for release.

“Slim Jims aren’t exactly healthy for our dog.” Shuichi frowned.

“ _My_ dog. I don’t see Pancake jumping on zombies for _you._ ”

“Ugh, Kokichi.” Shuichi pinched his nose. “Dog food. Got it?”

“Angie is tired of the couple bickering—“ Kokichi flipped his hood up and Shuichi blushed. “—so can we go inside now?”

“Meet back here in thirty minutes, okay?” Kokichi reminded everyone as they walked into the store.

Miu and Miggy went straight ahead. Sonia turned left and before Shuichi followed, Kokichi snatched his wrist and squeezed. Shuichi searched his face for meaning, but Kokichi purposely kept it blank. Finding a meaning—whether it’s the right one or not, Kokichi didn’t know—Shuichi gave a small smile and nodded. So Kokichi released him and watched Shuichi go again.

_Come back safe._

 

“What do you think, Pancake?”

Kokichi held two cans of meat down in front of the dog. Pancake sniffed at both. Porterhouse steak. Filet mignon with bacon and potato.

“The meat in there might be bad.”

Kokichi snorted. “Yeah okay, Angie. You’re full of great advice so far.”

“You do not understand me yet and that is okay.” Angie gently took the cans from Kokichi and placed both back on the shelf. “But you should learn to heed other’s advice if you are to be a leader.”

He made a _pft_ noise. Kokichi untied his scarf from underneath his—Shuichi’s?—jacket and tied it around Pancake. The corners of his lips tugged up, Pancake was adorable with a bandana. Yeah, it suited him.

“Why?” Angie simply asked.

“Just a reminder to Saihara that Pancake is mine. Think of it as a collar.” Kokichi stood. He scanned the rest of the aisle from the end. “I can’t carry a bag of dry food. Unless you want to carry it like a slave.”

“Hmmm you and Shuichi have quite the history it seems. Care to enlighten?”

“Who’s that? Never heard of him.” Kokichi folded his hands behind his head, walking toward the other end of the store. “Well, if Angie won’t carry the food, guess I’ll have to keep giving him Slim Jims and canned food. Oops, oh well.”

Angie followed too close for comfort. Staring at his face from behind. Leaning in so her nose almost touched his cheek.

“Oh I see, I see. Shuichi must be a close friend. What did you do to lose him, hm?”

She’s trying to get a rise out of him. He won’t let her. So he placed his backpack on the ground and leaned his machete against the aisle.

“Did you borrow something and not return it?”

When he reached the canned goods, he noticed the aisle was pretty raided. Lots of Spaghetti O’s were left behind. He dropped them in his bag, the apocalypse’s a bad time to be picky, though he did avoid the green beans.

“Did you copy his homework and you both got in trouble?”

Kokichi tossed macaroni and cheese in the bag. Miggy struck him as a mac and cheese guy.

“Did you steal his girlfriend?”

Hmmm… did anyone like corn? Hell no. Right, don’t be picky. Kokichi kept it.

“Did you break his heart?”

Kokichi’s hand hovered over the peas before he knocked it into his backpack.

“Oh, I see.” Angie’s gaze darkened as she smiled. “You broke each other’s hearts. Fate can be cruel sometimes, no?”

Kokichi threw his backpack on the title, almost spilling everything to the floor. “You are nothing but an annoying pest that spouts out Atua nonsense to excuse your inner desires to be a zombie freak. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you watched us fight. You wouldn’t have given a shit if your own sister died.”

“Step sister,” Angie corrected with a wag of her finger. That same finger poked his chest. “I had a purpose before the zombie infestation, and I have found a new one in this world. I want our group to be a vessel to spread Atua’s will and find possible chosen ones. You are marked for greatness, Kokichi.

“You show signs of a great leader. You have a funny way of expressing it and you may bully, but your intentions are good. I see the way you care for Shuichi behind the scenes. Leaving him food after he hasn’t eaten for days. You fulfilled his wish to go with someone else to stay in his good graces and to keep him happy.”

“If your purpose is to say creepy shit, you fulfilled it.” Kokichi sized Angie up with a puff of his chest. Pancake growled. _Calm down, you’re not thinking straight,_ his dad’s voice coaxed him. He exhaled. “We all have different ways to cope with disaster and this is your way. I get it, okay? Just… tone it down.”

Kokichi slung his bag on his back and walked toward the frozen foods. Why? To get away from this lecture.

“You really thrive here, hm? With your leadership and survival skills. Based on how you try to please everyone in your own way, my guess is… you didn’t have many friends before this. Was that Shuichi’s doing or yours? Maybe both.”

“Beep beep, Angie.” Kokichi tapped his index finger and thumb together twice.

She didn’t catch the hint. “How did you two end up together during this? Who went back to save who? My humble guess would be you went back for Shuichi. How did he get the scar on his ankle?”

Red flag. Red alarm. Red alert. Red… anything. Angie was crossing into the danger zone.

“I saved him, but who’s going to save you if you pull that shit again?” Kokichi attempted a conversation change. “I won’t.”

“Hmmm my suspicions are confirmed. Thank you.” Angie clapped her hands together and danced to the meat aisle.

Whatever. Good riddance. Kokichi trailed into the frozen desserts, pausing in front of the ice cream. He wanted to sit down in the floor and eat as much of it as his stomach allowed. He’s lactose intolerant but fuck it. Kokichi was angry and upset, ice cream’s a temporary cure.

Angie thought she had him pegged? He thrived on his ability to change masks, changing emotions on a dime. Only person to ever see him was Shuichi, and even now, Shuichi couldn’t anymore. A stranger like Angie couldn’t see him clearly and so soon.

Kokichi didn’t trust or care for people, especially Shuichi Saihara. He just smart enough to know survival on his own was impossible. Shuichi knew it too, so they traveled together. Now, Kokichi had more people to cover his back. Only reason he wanted to lead was so a moron like Miu didn’t get them all killed. If you want something done right, do it yourself.

“Dammit.”

Except… that’s all a lie. He did care and trusted them. Miggy was probably terrified because he only knows Spanish while they spoke a language he didn’t understand, so he wouldn’t betray people who accept him. Miu’s quirky in her own weird way and a great fighter. She could’ve left them behind during the brawl and didn’t. Then there’s Sonia. Gorgeous, talented, smart. Everything he could want in a second-in-command. Even Angie wasn’t so bad despite her method of getting know people.

Then there’s Shuichi. Despite his better judgement, he knew his actions reflect what he wanted. Dammit, he wanted to be Shuichi’s friend again and he kept fucking it up.

_Don’t forget Kokichi. What do you think about him?_

Kokichi came back to the present to gaze at his reflection. What _did_ he think about himself?

When he stared at his reflection, someone else stared back. At first, Kokichi wasn’t surprised. So much happened in a short time, of course he didn’t recognize himself. Then his eyes drifted slightly to the left to his own reflection.

Wait.

The other face belonged to a droid. It stood about a foot taller than him, staring directly into the glass with its cold, soulless eyes. The male wore a Walmart uniform, _Gary_ written on the nametag. Grunts left Gary’s mouth but he made no move forward.

Forget the name. Names gave meaning and identity. This zombie’s lifeless, Kokichi needed to remember that.

According to the reflection, it stood directly behind him. Kokichi covered his mouth to hide his breathing that increased by the second. His other hand moved slowly, reaching for his machete… that he left in the canned food aisle. Eyes scanned for Pancake, but the dog’s gone too.

He couldn’t move, it’s too close for him to move silently and escape. Fucked himself over by not paying attention.

Tears blurred his vision, so he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he stayed still and silent, it’d leave on its own accord. Someone would eventually notice he didn’t return, right?

Wait it out. Don’t panic.

Its breath tickled his neck.

Wait it out. Don’t panic.

It grunted in his ear.

Wait it out. Don’t panic.

A shoe squeaked when it stepped forward, bumping into Kokichi.

Act now. Panic a little.

Kokichi dropped to his knees and avoided the needy fingers of the droid. In the same moment, a blade kissed the top of his hair, slices floating in the air, and cut across the side and stomach of the zombie. It fell to the floor, blood seeping out in a deep, almost black color.

“Atua says it’s not your time yet,” said Angie. “He has more planned for you whether I agree or not.”

Angie dropped the machete to the floor and left Kokichi alone with Gary. He didn’t miss how Angie swung the weapon without knowing Kokichi would move or not.

To clear his head, Kokichi explored the store and kept anything that made him relax, hoarding items. A deck of Uno cards. A stuffed Scooby-Doo. A new pair of shoes. A tennis ball for Pancake.

Kokichi was the first to leave the store.

 

He decided to resort to the observer role during their travels. Kokichi wanted to figure out what made the new people tick, what drove them.

Kokichi watched Angie take the helm.

“Kokichi grabbed enough cans for us to have one a day until we reach the safe zone. Praise be to Atua! Everyone clap for Kokichi.”

Everyone clapped, making him rather uncomfortable.

“Sonia and Shuichi found plenty of first aid kits and pills for anything you can think of. Praise be to Atua! Everyone clap.”

Everyone clapped again, so Kokichi awkwardly clapped along.

“Miu and Miggy—“

Same thing.

He examined her style, the way she worded everything so kindly. She’d build someone up before giving instructions. The requests started simple.

Build a fire.

Cook the food.

Keep a night vigil.

Then the request grew into weird thoughts like…

Carry Angie.

Tuck her in at night with a blanket.

Help her dress.

The night before they reached the safe zone, Kokichi offered to keep the night vigil. He sat against a tree, parallel to the fire and sleeping group. Chewing on his lip, Kokichi pondered as he flipped through his photo album.

Why did they follow her so blindly but they questioned him most of the time?

Angie didn’t show her creepy side to them, only a kind young lady that’s trying to help. She’s nice to them, originally only asking favors based on their strengths. She even asked Kokichi to help clean everyone’s weapons since he probably knew proper care. Was it because she paid attention? She cared to know them?

Kokichi drew random patterns in the dirt with his pinky.

She’s smart and manipulative. They liked her and they bend at her will. That’s no way to live.

“Hey.”

Kokichi gasped and jolted to attention, shutting the album when Shuichi dropped next to him, their shoulders touching as he situated himself. His fingers tapped a random rhythm on his thigh. Kokichi continued to draw.

“Can’t sleep?” Kokichi offered but didn’t expect an answer. Shuichi’s been avoiding him, after all.

“Not really. ‘lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind.”

Shuichi drew his legs to his chest. “Yeah… guess I do.”

“Must be pretty bad if you came to me instead of Angie.” Kokichi realized he drew a dog. Ha, it kinda looked like his own that slept by the fire.

Shuichi’s tapping increased in tempo. “You really think I’d go to her before I’d come to you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“ _You’re_ an idiot.”

Shuichi opened his mouth then shut it. In the silence, the fire crackled, embers floating away in the wind. Kokichi saw the embers in Shuichi’s eyes again and he felt brave.

“Do you hate—“

“I’m sorry,” said Shuichi at the same time.

“You first,” Kokichi said.

“No, go ahead.” Shuichi tapped tapped tapped...

Kokichi placed his hand over Shuichi’s for a moment then pulled away. “Jeez, you’re making _me_ nervous by doing that.”

“S-Sorry.” Shuichi placed his other hand on top as if that’s the only way to stop himself from tapping. “I just… I don’t hate you…” Kokichi almost missed it, Shuichi spoke so soft. “And I’m sorry I make it seem like I do. I want us to be friends, but…”

_We keep fighting each other._

“I dunno, Saihara. You seem to be getting friendly with the Survival Posse. I’m beginning to believe you’ll ditch me at the safe zone.”

Shuichi’s head snapped to Kokichi, almost knocking their heads together. Neither moved.

“Are you serious?” The fire only danced on the right side of his face at this angle. “I don’t want that, and frankly, I don’t believe you do either.”

No he didn’t. He wanted Shuichi to stay. “Then let’s leave together. I don’t want to go.”

“I… I can’t do that. What if my uncle’s there? Or Kaito? Kaede? I have to at least look.” Shuichi turned back to the others. “Besides, I’ve grown attached to them? We can have our cake and eat it too, Kokichi.”

“Always been about your other friends.” Kokichi sighed.

Shuichi squeezed both hands, squishing the urge to fiddle around. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes you are. You’re throwing our past in my face.”

“Says the one that brought it up first the other day.”

Shuichi considered this. “I know… and I’m sorry. Once we get to that safe zone, we’ll talk it out, okay? I want… I want to start fresh with you. Square one. Blank slate and start as friends again. Like when we were kids, remember?”

“You mean like the day you moved in with your uncle?” Kokichi chuckled. “It was raining that day, you slipped in the mud.”

“Ah, I remember it as you pushed me.” Shuichi smiled. “You said I needed to lighten up because I wouldn’t laugh at your jokes.”

“No seven-year-old is that mean!” Kokichi defended. Shuichi perked an eyebrow. “Fine, fine. I pushed you, but I didn’t mean to knock you down. You pulled me down with you, so karma got my ass.”

“Then we kept throwing mud at each other—“

“Until my dad came outside and yelled at us.”

“My uncle was pissed. Can we be that again?” asked Shuichi softly.

“I don’t think we can go ten years back in time.” Kokichi leaned onto Shuichi. “Too much history, Saihara.”

“I mean… let’s forget about what we did.” Shuichi actually said _we_. “For now at least.”

“For now,” Kokichi parroted. “Until we can properly talk it out. Then we’ll decide if it’s worth it.”

Shuichi leaned into him as well. He’s so warm. “Right… until then.”

Fuck, he’s missed Shuichi.

Silence enveloped them for awhile. Shuichi shut his eyes, his head bobbing now and then as he fought to stay awake and indulge in the moment with Kokichi. Honestly, Kokichi wanted to sleep too, but he couldn’t when they’d be put in danger.

And if he wanted to be honest—which he didn’t want to be—he wanted to talk to Shuichi all night.

“I like Sonia,” he broke the quiet.

Shuichi smiled, his eyes staying shut. “Yeah? Me too. Miguel’s cool… for someone who has no clue what we’re saying.”

“Y’know, I thought Sonia and Miggy might be… you know.” He made an O with one hand and poked his finger through it. Shuichi missed it because his damn eyes stayed shut. “But Sonia talks a lot about this online friend a lot. So I guess he’s friendzoned.”

“That must be rough.”

“Hmm?”

Shuichi shrugged. “Loving someone that loves someone else.”

“Yeah…” Kokichi stopped leaning on Shuichi in favor of drawing again. “That must suck, huh?”

Shuichi’s eyes shot open. “Kokichi—“

“Miu seems… active.” Kokichi flipped the topic. Shuichi mercifully didn’t pursue the previous conversation. “She keeps offering to get me off for saving her life.”

“Ew.”

“Agreed.”

“And Angie…?” Shuichi offered at a lower volume.

“You first.” Kokichi motioned.

“She keeps looking at me weird. Makes me nervous.” Shuichi returned to tapping then quit when he gazed at Kokichi. “I think…”

Kokichi read his face. Shuichi saw exactly what Kokichi saw but wasn’t brave enough to say it. He watched her from their shared tree, how peaceful in her sleep she appeared.

Shuichi didn’t even know what happened at Walmart.

“It’s all in your head,” lied Kokichi, choosing to ease him. They’d be at the safe zone soon and they could leave her behind. “You think too much.”

“Yeah… yeah, I guess I do.”

Kokichi put on a smile. “She’s looking out for us. That’s all we need right now.”

“Mhmm, you’re right.” Shuichi matched his smile. Kokichi couldn’t gauge if he bought it. “Hey… you’ve been over here for a few hours. Let me take a shift. Get some sleep.”

“You’re being nice to me? Wow! Character development.” Kokichi playfully nudged him with a shoulder.

“St-Stop that. Please go. I can handle it.”

Kokichi surprised himself by leaning back onto the other. He lowered his guard enough to shut off the voices in his head, to allow himself to be protected by someone else.

He’d worry about the safe zone tomorrow. He’d wonder about the repercussion of his lie tomorrow.

“I’m not going anywhere, Saihara.” Kokichi wanted to keep him talking. “You’ve been listening to the zombie broadcast? Tell me about different species?”

“Sure!” Shuichi sounded excited, sitting up straighter. “Well, let me tell you about chucks first…”

Kokichi didn’t focus on the words, just the sounds of the other’s soft voice. He probably should’ve paid attention, but that’s another worry for tomorrow.

He should’ve done a lot of things instead of indulging in the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone catch that IT reference? No? Oh okay.
> 
> Oof, hope an OC is okay.
> 
> Phew. Let me know your opinions about the Survival Posse ;) anyone you're surprised to see? Anyone you're HOPING to see in Side A or Side B? Let me know :D
> 
> Follow us on Twitter:  
> @DillasWrites  
> @M_BTree
> 
> Add me on Discord:  
> DillasWrites#7699


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